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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845212">You took everything, now I'm nothing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLin17/pseuds/CatLin17'>CatLin17</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Memory Loss, No Incest, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Tags May Change, The sparrow academy is intentionally vague in here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:34:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845212</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLin17/pseuds/CatLin17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Reginald had waited 56 years to get his hands on Number Five. However, there is one problem: Number Five's loyalty, to his greatest disappointment, lies towards the Umbrella Academy.<br/>Fortunately, its not a problem a memory wipe couldn't fix.</p><p>Or </p><p>   Reginald made a grim mistake of taking the Umbrella Academy out of Number Five's head.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>628</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. New Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fic and this idea has been stuck in my head for so long that I really need to try and write it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He woke up to a plain white ceiling and the uncomfortable feeling of sinking in a bed. Carelessly, he kicked the blanket off him and placed his bare feet on the wooden floor. </p><p> </p><p>The room still felt unfamiliar to him and he hopes that with time, it will warm up to him.</p><p> </p><p>The hope felt like a flickering flame in his chest and he's aware of the gaping, hungry hole next to where his heart was supposed to be.</p><p> </p><p>He... <em>Number Eight</em>... Yes... He was Number Eight and it took him a few more seconds to realize what woke him up in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>The bell signaling breakfast had been rung and he needed to line up with the rest of the Academy or else he will face Dad's disappointment or rage, whichever comes first. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn't, for the very short life he could actually remember, care less. And yet, almost robotically, he wore his uniform, put on his shoes, and tightened his tie in a firm knot. The motion was more familiar to him than his room, he idly noted.</p><p> </p><p>His hand itches and he was filled with the indescribable urge to arm himself with a weapon. He made do with a pen in his desk, pocketing it on his shorts, and finally started heading out of his room. </p><p> </p><p>He took his time walking around the hall and familiarizing himself with the layout of the Academy. He wondered detachedly if his room was placed strategically in such a location that anyone has easy access to it and <strong>was he supposed to feel something from that observation?</strong></p><p> </p><p>Fuck, he can't even remember himself and wasn't that the fucking icing on his cake?</p><p> </p><p>By the time he reached the dining room, everyone was already standing in front of their respective chairs. He scoffed and didn't bother to speak pleasantries, instead, he briskly approached his assigned chair and leaned on it.</p><p> </p><p>He was aware of the gazes his family was giving him and he subtly took stock of the emotions that flickered in their faces.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Uncomfortable. Wary. Waiting. Contemplation. Watching. Amused. Suspicion.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Number Eight gave them a smile and if he were looking at a mirror, he'd realize just how menacing it looked. Alas, no mirrors can be found and as a result, he was unaware of the reason behind the sudden increase of tension in the dining room. He could still appreciate the flicker of fear on their faces though. It suits them.</p><p> </p><p>With the authority -and the dramatics- worthy of a king, Reginald Hargreeves approached the table, took a seat, and nodded at the rest of the Sparrow Academy. All of them obediently sat down.</p><p> </p><p><em>This,</em> Number Eight thought to himself, <em>this feels familiar as well. </em></p><p> </p><p>Familiar to the point that his body knew what to do and when to do it. Eight glanced at his family again as they silently partook on the breakfast before them. He took note of their appearance (he purposefully ignored the floating box, it was much too early for THAT), the shape of their nose, the height, the hair color and yet it feels like he was looking at all of them for the first time.</p><p> </p><p>His blood felt like ice and the sound of his heart beating drowned out the sounds of cutlery hitting plate. <em>They're family, they weren't supposed to feel like strangers. He needs to remember them. They were his</em>. </p><p> </p><p>"-mber Eight!" The sound startles him, and he mentally scolded himself for being distracted. He was like this since he woke up and he was never- wait- was he always like this? Or was he different now?</p><p> </p><p>He raised his eyes to meet with Reginald's who was giving him a look as if he were some unruly child caught playing with his food.</p><p> </p><p>He resisted the urge to scoff at him, too. He wasn't a child. No, he is a child. What?</p><p> </p><p>"This is the last time I will repeat myself," Reginald warned and Eight was tempted to pretend he did not hear him, just to see if he will keep his word. Eight nodded instead.</p><p> </p><p>"Have your memories returned yet?" Reginald asked and Eight couldn't even take a gander on what is going on in his Father's mind. He was begrudgingly impressed.</p><p> </p><p>Fortunately, the rest of the Sparrow Academy is not as competent in hiding what they are thinking as Reginald was, and the real apprehension on their faces was unmistakable.</p><p> </p><p>"Nothing," Eight answered truthfully. The relief that went across the room was palpable. Are they just incompetent at hiding anything or is he the one who is too good at reading them?</p><p> </p><p>Why would they fear the return of his memories? Normally, they would want it to come back, right?</p><p> </p><p><strong>Are they lying to me?</strong> The words drip like poison on his head and the flickering flame next to his empty chest started burning into blaze. His knuckles turned white from the grip he had on his knife and the suspicion and anger that he felt was getting harder and harder to control. </p><p> </p><p>"You should eat," A man (Number one, his mind helpfully supplied) seating next to Reginald spoke. Eight gazed at Number One and the nostalgia that washed over him washed the anger and suspicion together with it.</p><p> </p><p>That's right. The mansion was still vaguely familiar. Some of the motions he had done during the day IS familiar. This wasn't a lie. He was being paranoid and angry.</p><p> </p><p>Number Eight must be feeling stressed from not remembering anything that it was starting to whither his logical mind.</p><p> </p><p><em>Its fine.</em> He reassured himself. <em>The Sparrow Academy -his family- would fill the hole in his heart soon enough.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. ...and everything that matters was gone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Number Five had lost a lot of things. Life had enjoyed taking everything away from his powerless thirteen-year-old hands.</p><p> </p><p>He had lost his body from age. Lost his sanity, his mind, his control of his powers, and HIS FAMILY in the apocalypse. He lost his morals to the commission. He lost his DNA to the experiment. </p><p> </p><p>There was nothing in his long torture of a life that destiny hadn't taken away from him except for two things: his name and his memories. </p><p> </p><p>Number Five. It was the reason why he never changed it to a more normal one. The name came to symbolize so much to him, though he would never admit it out loud to anyone in fear that it would be the next one he would lose. After all, all valuable things get inevitably stolen from him.</p><p> </p><p>Number Five belonged with Number One, Two, Three, Four, Six and Seven. </p><p> </p><p>During the apocalypse, it was the only thing he ever loved about himself. Because in a world where he constituted ‘everyone’ he was also ‘no one’ and the name was a reminder that once upon a time, he was ‘someone’.</p><p> </p><p>If fear were not in the forefront of his mind, he would have found it ironic that Reginald would be the one to take it away from him, because it was Reginald who gave it to him in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>And he felt fear today. Fear so strong it actually dethroned the scariest experience Five had ever had: The moment he realized he couldn't leave the apocalypse.</p><p> </p><p>He was laid on his back, both arms and feet fastened with metal clamps to the table. He struggled to stay conscious because every blink he does pulls him closer and closer to a drugged, pliant state. He clenched his fists but only poor sparks of blue electricity were called upon. Nevertheless, Number Five had always traversed the thin line between determination and desperation and the hopeless scenario before him does nothing but feed to his rage and fear, never defeat. Never, ever defeat. He never gave up. He won't give up now.</p><p> </p><p>The similarity of this situation and the day he was made a killer wasn't lost on him.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald's monocle glinted from where he was peering down at Five. He was the picture-perfect representation of a disappointed parent looking at his miserable son, the look of which sent another flick of anger in Five's system. </p><p> </p><p>Frustratingly, the anger does nothing to the drugs coursing through Five's veins, it just manages to piss him even more off. He won't be surprised if he started bleeding pure anger at this point.</p><p> </p><p>He hissed and struggled but Reginald's impassive stare never let up. </p><p> </p><p>"What do you want from me?" He spat with as much vitriol that he could manage. His tongue stuck uncomfortably to his mouth as he speaks but he paid it no mind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>His family- where the fuck are they? are they dead? when was the last time he saw them?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I may have overestimated your intelligence." Five's eye twitches angrily at the obvious provocation from Reginald. "Your time and space prowess are very desirable and very instrumental to my goals: stopping the apocalypse."</p><p> </p><p>Five struggled at his binds again. He knew he couldn't break it, but the pain from the metal scratching at his skin helped him withstand the drug in his blood.</p><p> </p><p>"Then find the me of this timeline!" Five growled and managed to sound both unimpressed and angry at the same time. "He'd be easier to manipulate, I assure you."</p><p> </p><p>Reginald raised an unimpressed eyebrow as if Five was supposed to know the answer to the question he most certainly did not ask. "I couldn't. Whatever you have done in the 60s have changed enough of your mother for her to kill you and herself. There is no 'you' of this timeline."</p><p> </p><p>Number Five gritted his teeth. That made too much sense but he won't give Reginald the satisfaction of knowing that he was right.</p><p> </p><p>He knew the importance of his power, heck he's still learning how instrumental it was especially after learning to reverse time for a few seconds. The number of things that he could do and prevent, anyone would be blinded by that realization. In fact, he was blinded by it, until he paid the price in the apocalypse.</p><p> </p><p>"Look," Five tried for patience this time. "I want to stop the apocalypse, too. There's no need for-" he gestured at himself "-this."</p><p> </p><p>Reginald scoffed at Five before gesturing to someone above Five's head that he couldn't take a glimpse at without breaking his neck.</p><p> </p><p>"Do not take me for a fool, Number Five. I know you and your miserable lot wanted to leave this timeline. And frankly, you are a waste for them."</p><p> </p><p>Shit. </p><p> </p><p>"You won't let us leave?" Five clarified. Let it be said that Number Five did not hate his Father as much as his siblings did but if he was proving himself an enemy that Five could no longer ignore these past few days.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I would be very pleased if the rest of your dysfunctional group leaves," Reginald's tone of voice carried unhidden disgust within it that sparks a flame of protectiveness in Five that he was proud enough to admit to himself, only to himself though. </p><p> </p><p>"You, on the other hand," This time, Reginald's gaze sent goosebumps in Five's neck. The gaze reminded him too much of how the Handler first looked at him. Like he would be a very useful dog to tame and feed. "The Sparrow Academy wants you."</p><p> </p><p>Five was a wolf. A loyal pack animal, willing to shred and kill anything for the survival of his family. He was no dog. </p><p> </p><p>He won't abandon his family for anything. Not even for the world. </p><p> </p><p>The defiance in his eye must have spoken volumes of what Five felt because Reginald simply sighed in an awfully faux manner. Five imagined blowing his head with a mallet.</p><p> </p><p>"I would have thought that I raised you better than letting <em>sentiments</em> get the better of you. But this is no skin off my back, old man. I was already aware of this fact back in 1963." A woman broke through Reginald's spiel and handed him a syringe containing a bluish white liquid.</p><p> </p><p>Fear clawed its way through Five's throat as he slowly realized what was about to happen. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Not again. Not fucking again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He struggled more against the binds, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything but the sheer need to get away from Reginald. The desire to be by his family's side had him suddenly feeling like a child again, yearning, hurting, for something that wasn't there.</p><p> </p><p>"A reset is in order and we can be a better team than the Umbrella Academy, Number Five. I assure you that my team is more... goal-oriented than the people you were forced to be with." Was this Reginald's way of comforting him? Because he was failing at it more miserably than when he was trying to raise them, there is no comfort to be found in his speech.</p><p> </p><p>Five's family was a pain in the ass on a good day. They couldn't reach a deadline to save their lives or the <em>world</em>. They were ungrateful ingrates with less brain cells and more heart than him. But they were his. They were the reason for everything he had ever done. <em>They were his.</em> And he just barely got them back. Only recently have they started becoming a family again and heaven knows how much he yearned for that.</p><p> </p><p>Walking through hell had been worth it because he had the memories of his family to keep him alive, to keep him desperate enough to grasp the Handler's hand. Everything was worth it because of them.</p><p> </p><p>"No, no." The whispered voice that came out of his mouth could not have come from him. It was pleading and pathetic in a way that he would never let himself be. He struggled again without minding the sounds of his joints cracking, and he continued pleading.</p><p> </p><p>Tears blurred his vision. "Please. Please. Not them. <em>Not them</em>."</p><p> </p><p>Uncaring for the vulnerability that Five had shown, Reginald simply pushed the needle to the vein in his arms. </p><p> </p><p>They were all the same. Reginald and the Commission. They were all the same. They held no regards for what Five wanted and held no regards for the important things that he kept close to his heart. They take from Five what they wanted and modified him to their purposes as if he was less than human and more an instrument.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>(He remembered screaming on the laboratory that day. He did not know what they were doing nor what they are taking away from him. But he screamed, nonetheless. He was old and weak at the time and he could not have done anything to defend himself from the scalpel, from the drugs, from the cruel, expectant smiles.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>And when it was over, they looked at him as if he was a masterpiece but the reflection in the mirror was just a monster wearing his skin.)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The liquid entered his bloodstream and it felt like ice had started spreading in his veins. He let out a violent shiver. The ice reached his shoulders spreading towards his chest, up to his neck, down to his legs, everywhere, everyfuckingwhere.</p><p> </p><p>Five sobbed, feeling the loss before he even lost it. </p><p> </p><p>He will lose his name. He will lose his family for the fourth (the fifth? the sixth? Five couldn’t count or he’ll lose his head) fucking time and he won't even remember losing them anymore, won't even remember that he needs them back.</p><p> </p><p>He was Number Five.</p><p> </p><p>The cold feeling reached his brain and his mind went blank. His eyes dilated and temporarily greyed in color.</p><p> </p><p>Everything was blank.</p><p> </p><p><em>He is nothing</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He felt someone shaking him and he blearily looked up at an old man with a monocle. The old man wore an expensive looking suit and a strict look in his face. He didn’t look friendly.</p><p> </p><p>"Number Eight, how are you feeling?" The old man asked impatiently, the way someone would if they were saying the same thing for a while now.</p><p> </p><p>He is Number Eight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Losing it when I've already lost everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Reginald did not know enough about Five, and the Sparrow Academy will pay for his mistake soon enough.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Sparrow Academy is a group of superheroes devoted in saving the world from the reign of evil. It sounded awfully similar to the plots of comic books except they already are one. </p><p> </p><p>Number One, the only one among them that Eight actually remembers well, is the leader of the Sparrows. In One's stomach lies a portal that unleashes monsters of horrific proportions and capabilities. Like Number One, every single member of the Sparrow Academy has powers. Number Eight, in particular, can travel through time and space.</p><p> </p><p>It was when he was thirteen that Number Eight in a very arrogant declaration, decided to time travel despite Reginald's warnings. Number Eight had failed and instead of time travelling, he had managed to stop time on himself for almost 17 years. By the time he woke up, his memories were gone, and the rest of his family had grown up without him.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald had explained the following to him on that fateful day he woke up from his self-induced time coma. He was terribly tired that day and could barely think straight as he was led to his room. He remembered asking questions and getting vague and increasingly irritated answers before he finally took a hint and closed his mouth. After such disobedience that cost him more than half the life he was supposed to have, he could see why they were angry at him.</p><p> </p><p>He slept through the night. Woke up, got interrogated by Reginald, was properly reintroduced to the Sparrow Academy, and slept again. </p><p> </p><p>His first family breakfast, that happened the next day, went as well as it could. If he had a point of reference, he would have made a more accurate assessment but he didn't so he made do with the gratuitous attempt at one.</p><p> </p><p>The breakfast was, for a lack of a better description, <em>lacking</em>. Disappointingly lacking in conversation, in action, in emotion, in genuineness, in <em>warmth.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Regin- <em>Dad</em> was quick to dismiss Eight after they finished their meal, stating that due to his current condition, he was allowed not to participate in their early training. Eight didn't know what he expected for his unexpected return to consciousness but such blatant disregard for his first breakfast with them after <em>17 years,</em> was definitely not one of it.</p><p> </p><p>He disappointedly left the knife in the table after breakfast, knowing full well that a missing potential weapon could raise a few eyebrows in his family.</p><p> </p><p><em>His family...</em> The thought felt wrong and unwelcome in his mind and the more Eight thinks about it the more he felt the gaping hole in his chest widen.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't a painful feeling per se, but a numbing one. Like ice spreading from his chest towards every single part of his body, leaving him shivering and yearning for the earlier heat of anger that actually seems to temper such coldness.</p><p> </p><p>Unlike the first and second day that he was awake, the third was significantly better. A few of his family members had made an effort to talk to him, but the conversation keeps falling flat and Eight refuses to take all the credit for that. Certainly, he was not the most <em>riveting</em> conversation partner, but even the rest of the Sparrow Academy seemed unsure of which topic to broach with him. If Eight didn't know any better, he'd think that all of them are strangers to each other or atleast he is.</p><p> </p><p>They're fucking <em>boring</em> and <em>lacking</em> and ... <strong><em>nothing.</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>He tried, he really tried to remember more about Numbers Two to Seven, tried to atleast remember their names, their powers and what they look like. Because they're family and maybe if he starts thinking more of them, he'd feel less empty.</p><p> </p><p>But it was hard. Thinking about them just made him angrier because every eye contact with them rang loud alarm bells in his mind because Eight may not remember much, but he recognizes the eyes of a liar. And his family, except for Dad, were <em>terrible</em> liars. </p><p> </p><p>To make matters worse, rather than take note of the way they smiled and talk, Eight just notice vulnerabilities. One is the only one whose presence he can barely accept, and even Eight caught himself constantly wondering what would happen if he slit One's stomach. Would intestines or tentacles come out? If One dies, do the monsters inside the portal die as well?</p><p> </p><p>Was something wrong with him? Or was he always like this?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What was normal anyway?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He figured he needed more time, more time to actually grow affection to them again but did he even like them at thirteen? Because he was slowly growing confident that he- nevermind that.</p><p> </p><p>Having no memory sucks. It feels like he was walking without looking at anything and only when he bothers to look down does he realize that there are holes to the very ground he steps on. There are familiar things, but there are also a lot of unfamiliar, unwelcome, DISGUSTING <em>sentiments</em> that are being drudged up the more he contemplates about what he feels and what he thinks.</p><p> </p><p><em>Give it a few days</em>, Eight whispers to himself. <em>The empty feeling would go away. The anger would go away. Give it a few more days.</em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Three more days had passed and Eight was nearing the end of his metaphorical rope. Someone will end up strangled and it won’t be him.</p><p> </p><p>He was cleared for training two days ago and he felt nothing but boredom and anger at Reginald for making him jump from the four points of the room for hours. He was tired and cranky, and he wanted coffee but there was not a single coffee bean in the larger-than-strictly-necessary mansion. Number Four, after finding Eight combing the cabinets in the kitchen like a maniac, was quick to remind him that Reginald did not like coffee and warned Eight that he still was not allowed to go out to get one. </p><p> </p><p>Number Eight barely managed to stop himself from crushing Reginald's windpipe and roasting his innards for himself then and there.</p><p> </p><p>If that wasn't enough to light a fuse in him, the rest of the family went from irritating to downright insufferable in the span of three days. They keep looking at him funny and he keeps on pretending not to notice the less than friendly gazes that he felt from them. </p><p> </p><p>Despite suffering memory loss, he still managed to be smarter than them once he reviewed the topics being discussed by their tutors. Furthermore, sparring without powers against him had proved dangerous after he managed to hit Number Five's throat, sending the man gasping desperately for breath that wouldn't reach his lungs.</p><p> </p><p>Eight was scolded thoroughly by Reginald for his carelessness but Eight just scoffed and called Number Five pathetic for being weaker than a child. He was punished for that. It was still worth it anyway and he had no inhibitions in saying so out loud. <em>Repeatedly.</em></p><p> </p><p>He did not speak of how absolutely enthralled he was to watch Number Five struggle for breath like a fish out of water. </p><p> </p><p>Eight wonders if this is what family was supposed to feel like. <em>Wait,</em> he dropped the book he was holding when the question appeared on his head. He looked around, while sitting in front of his desk, to his room that he could barely even recall.</p><p> </p><p>What was he looking for in the first place? There is no memory of what a family was supposed to be like in his head so why did he assumed that this was wrong?</p><p> </p><p>With the way everyone treats him, who’s to say that this wasn't it? </p><p> </p><p>With dawning realization that felt more like fear, Eight concluded: <em>This was it... In the end, they weren't what Eight needed after all.</em></p><p> </p><p>He stood up and paced around his room.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps the hole in his chest was there before he even lost his memory. This explains why they don't arouse any affection in him. It explains why he was so uncomfortable around them and why they were so uncomfortable around him too.</p><p> </p><p>They did not matter to Number Eight. Not before, not now and probably not ever. He placed a hand on his chest feeling the emptiness in it despite the faint thumps of his heart. He wanted to dig his fingers past his ribs and squeeze his heart until something actually worth his time drops out of it.</p><p> </p><p>He needs something. He needs to feel something else because his emotions managed to travel from apathy to anger with no in between for days now like a fucking pendulum and it is starting to mess with his head.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to remember what hope felt like, but the tiny flame in his chest had long since sputtered to its death and he couldn't quite remember how warm it had felt for him. He could only remember the blazing heat of the anger that appears there from time to time.</p><p> </p><p>He <em>needs</em> something and like an answer to his fervent, unspoken prayers, Reginald allowed him to participate on missions.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, <em>fucking stimulation.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for all the support. I was really beginning to get nervous because I'm afraid I would not be able to reach your expectations. But in the end, I just really want to write about this story so...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I found something</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which, without memories Five can only rely on his instincts.<br/>Too bad, the instincts weren't his.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If he weren’t anticipating it, he would have found the mission alarm obnoxious. But he was, so almost excitedly, he slipped on his mask and quickly fell in line with the rest of the Sparrow Academy. </p><p> </p><p>Dad was quick to brief them on the mission: a few mafia members and the police were having a shootout on the nearby dock and they were being sent in to 'neutralize' the threat. Eight appreciates the way his Dad cuts straight to the chase, which is almost, almost, enough for him to forgive Dad about the coffee. <em>Almost</em>.</p><p> </p><p>They began to pile in on the van which was embossed with the logo of the Sparrow Academy. The sight of where he would be trapped for the rest of the trip made Eight's innards crawl. He did not want to sit so close to so many people in such a closed off location, but everyone was peering at him expectantly and he swallowed down the feeling. He climbed inside and tried to make himself as small as possible to avoid as much contact as he could.</p><p> </p><p>The smell of human sweat and warmth made him itch with an indescribable urge to replace it with metal and rot, Eight found himself repeatedly running his fingers in the letter opener that he found on the library. He made sure to keep it on his pocket to avoid suspicion, because hell knows he had enough suspicious glances made his way to last a lifetime.</p><p> </p><p>"Why do all of us need to go, anyway?" The male voice almost sounded whiny when it broke the silence in the van. </p><p> </p><p>Number Four, his brain reminded him. Eight gritted his teeth, <em>Shut Up.</em></p><p> </p><p>Number One, without looking away from the window of the van, answered in an irritated tone. "Because it was Eight's first mission, and we are needed in case something goes wrong."</p><p> </p><p>Eight bristled. "Last I checked, I decked all of you. I didn't know that you were so fragile that a hit from a child is enough to induce memory loss."</p><p> </p><p>Eight made sure to be as derisive as possible as he smiled at them.</p><p> </p><p>He could see the hackles rising from some of the members of the Academy but Number One just scoffed at him. "You won because we were not using powers."</p><p> </p><p>He leaned on his seat and schooled his expression to a smug one, he chose the particular version that he knew was capable of pissing them off more than anything else. "If I was allowed to use mine, it wouldn't even be a fight."</p><p> </p><p>Two restrained Three from jumping on him while Eight just blinked his eyes innocently at them.</p><p> </p><p>Unamused, Two gave him a sharp, reproachful look before smiling at him like a predator, "If you're so confident, why don't you fight them alone then?"</p><p> </p><p>Dropping the smug look in his face, Eight replaced it with an expression close to being properly chastised. While Eight is curious about how he will perform against so many enemies, he found no reason to be an idiot and risk his life for a bet he couldn't care less about in winning.</p><p> </p><p>Three gave Eight a scowl before whispering, "Fucking arrogant child."</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry," Eight said in a small voice, playing himself as the perfect kid who is due a hit on the ego. </p><p> </p><p>After a few more minutes, they had arrived on the dock. Number One was the first to exit the van and Eight respectfully went last. He was getting bored on playing the 'Which of my siblings can I piss off first?' and he was really in need of a new source of entertainment.</p><p> </p><p>They were a respectful distance away from the standoff between the police and the mafia. Each side hiding behind cars and buildings, biding their time for the opportunity to off each other. </p><p> </p><p>The moment Eight exited the car, he was hit with the metallic smell of blood and gunpowder and he visibly repressed a shiver. He could feel his mouth watering and his heart beating faster.</p><p> </p><p>He leaned on the van for something to ground him on the reality of the situation. Unfortunately, the sudden movement had caught the attention of Five who smirked before slowly approaching him.</p><p> </p><p>"You okay, kid?" Five said mockingly. "Wanna go home to somewhere more child-friendly?"</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck off," As if being significantly younger and shorter were not enough to lower his intimidation factor, the way he sounded out of breath just made him look even more pathetic. Five's snort of amusement as he left was message enough that he shares the same sentiment and he enjoyed knocking down Eight's ego.</p><p> </p><p>Tasks were relegated, and Eight and Four were assigned to protect both the police and Six, while Six heals the injured.</p><p> </p><p>The Sparrow Academy broke the stand-off between the two sides when Number Two called upon her birds to attack the mafia members. And just like that, the battle had begun.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost too boring, what with Eight being relegated to the sidelines while the rest of the family had their fun. He watched the Horror rip people apart like cotton, birds peck the men's eyes out with loud squawks, and lasers sliced people cleanly in half.</p><p> </p><p><em>Boring</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The police, slowly beginning to realize that they were the liability in the situation, were moving a safe distance away from the massacre. </p><p> </p><p>Seeing as there are no more people to protect, Four, Six and Eight were allowed to enter the fight. Excitedly, Four and Six left their position to join the fray while Eight just remained disappointed on the same spot.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, missions were nothing to him as well. It was as boring as everything else was and Eight is in dire need of something. <em>Anything.</em> Anything that could actually make him feel something worthwhile.</p><p> </p><p>The click of something metal (it’s a familiar sound) snapped Eight out of his contemplation and he found himself staring at the muzzle of a gun. A man who was bleeding on his left shoulder, was pointing his gun at Eight's forehead. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't move or the kid gets it!" The man yelled at the Sparrow Academy, but said Academy barely spared him a glance. </p><p> </p><p>Getting desperate, the man yelled again. "Are you listening to me? Can't you see that I have a hostage?! Raise your hands!"</p><p> </p><p>Eight rolled his eyes and teleported the gun pointed at him into his waiting hands. Flabbergasted, the injured mafia member stared at Eight with growing fear and realization. </p><p> </p><p>Eight spared him a smile before shooting the man's stomach, who instinctively curled himself from the pain. With the neck in reach, he forwent the gun and settled in slitting the man's jugular with the letter opener. </p><p> </p><p>Eight knew that it will be a quicker death with a gun, but he was curious and was looking forward to actually using the blade on someone the whole fucking day so forgive him for taking the opportunity when it presented itself.</p><p> </p><p>The man lets out a choked sound and blood splattered on Eight's face. It was warm and sticky, and he was suddenly drowned by the euphoria that flooded his system.</p><p> </p><p>What the fuck. What the fuck. What the <em>fucking</em> fuck.</p><p> </p><p>For days, he was suffering from the lack of variety in his emotions but now he was feeling so much that he was beginning to get overwhelmed. </p><p> </p><p>It was... It was exhilarating! And satisfying. And <em>warm.</em> And, and finally <strong>SOMETHING.</strong></p><p> </p><p>He felt hunger in the pit of his stomach, clawing at him and screaming for more. </p><p> </p><p>His fingers trembled and he let the blade slip from his bloody fingers with a clang. At the same time, the man fell with a thud. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know for how long he watched the man bleed from his neck, but Eight couldn’t stop staring. He only snapped out of it when he felt Six approach, letting her place her hand on his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>Eight weakly nodded.</p><p> </p><p>Six gently pulled him away from the body and back to the van where the rest of the Sparrow Academy was waiting for him. Eight did not notice that the fight was over, was he that distracted?</p><p> </p><p>In a daze, he sat inside the van while he let the conversation pour over him like water.</p><p> </p><p>"I guess he still is a kid, huh?"</p><p> </p><p>"And arrogant, motherfu-!"</p><p> </p><p>"Still a kid!"</p><p> </p><p>"I saw him stumble earlier too, I guess the amount of blood was too traumatizing for him."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, if One wasn't so-"</p><p> </p><p>"If you have any complaint, you can talk to the tentacles if you want."</p><p> </p><p>"No thanks."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It has been several days and finally, finally Eight found something that he actually wants. </p><p> </p><p>Eight wants to kill someone again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(After handing AJ to the Handler, Five vowed to himself: he was done with killing. Luther was right, there must be another way.</p><p> </p><p>But it doesn't matter anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing matters anymore.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Mind Games</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which, the Sparrow Academy was carefully performing their script and Five writes his own.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as One was concerned, Number Eight had always been their brother. From the moment they were capable of comprehension, Dad had never failed to tell them about the brother that they have yet to have. It was the closest to impressed Dad was ever going to get and One and his siblings were not strangers to the feeling of intense envy that they had towards their missing brother. Number Eight had gained, in just a single conversation, something that the Sparrow Academy have strived and never gained for years, Reginald's acknowledgement.</p><p> </p><p>And then Eight, their greatest rival, had finally came home together with five adults whom Dad did not fail to explain about. It was the hardest mission that the Sparrow Academy had ever encountered, especially because Eight had repeatedly moved himself and the Umbrella Academy away from their grasp like the most slippery slime that they ever had the displeasure of trying to grasp. But the game of tag was over, and the Sparrow Academy was, once again, the winner of the conflict. Everyone enjoyed the first victory that they had against the Umbrella Academy, especially Eight. Surely this means that they were more worthy of Reginald than this child? Surely this means that they don't have to suffer anymore under an absent person's shadow?</p><p> </p><p>They should have known that it was never that easy. The accomplishment and sense of victory only lasted a few days before Eight unknowingly crushed them, once again, under his tiny socked feet. </p><p> </p><p>They had always known that they could not win when it comes to usefulness of power. Who could fucking win against time travel? But they tried to excel in other things like academics, fighting, and leadership. But Mother Fate proved herself to be a fickle bitch because Eight... Eight was a genius, both in brains and combat. After a measly two days of catching up, he had managed to score the highest among the siblings, second only to the FUCKING half-robot of the family. And despite his size, he was agile, quick and sharp in a fight like a particularly masterful katana. And despite winning a couple of times against him, they had never truly felt like they have won. Eight brushed off every victory and defeat like an unwanted lint on his pristine clothes. He unwittingly made them feel small for perceiving the victory for something more. </p><p> </p><p>The kid was <em>hateful.</em></p><p> </p><p>But Dad wanted him and they have to pretend that they want him too.</p><p> </p><p>It was a good thing Eight was too busy inflating his head to realize the lie that he was involved in. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After dinner, Reginald invited Eight to a game of chess which earned him a few raised eyebrows and a minimum of 6 envious stares. Eight paid them no mind and simply nodded to his Dad, he knew that not acknowledging his siblings was as insulting as a smug look. </p><p> </p><p>He was beginning to like being passive-aggressive. There is just something <em>delectable </em>in remaining elegant while your enemies seethe unattractively to themselves. </p><p> </p><p>Dutifully, he followed Reginald to his office without sparing a single glance to the rest of the Sparrow Academy. He licked his dry lips as he admired the stiff way his Father carried himself. He found it amusing how Dad never seemed to let his guard down no matter who he was with. There is always something defensive and poised to attack in the man's posture that Eight was looking forward to seeing in action. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Would he be fast enough to dodge Eight if he tried to stab his back? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Reginald briskly opened the door and walked in.  </p><p> </p><p>Maybe one day, he would try to do so. But he thinks Reginald deserves a more interesting attack from him than a simple stab in the back. Something a bit more complex would be nice, something to warm the brain.</p><p> </p><p>Eight approached the chess board in the middle of the room and took the seat directly in front of his Father.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Reginald watched Number Eight take the seat. The boy's face was devoid of emotion save for a single spark of excitement that appeared at the sight of the board. </p><p> </p><p>"First turn is yours," Reginald gestured at Eight's white pieces. The boy nodded and quickly took a turn using his pawn, he did not look aware of Reginald's studious stare.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald moved his pawn.</p><p> </p><p>While Reginald was sure of the efficacy of the serum that he had injected to the boy, he was nothing if not vigilant. In the off chance that the kid will show the slightest bit of evidence in regaining his memory, Reginald would have to make sure to up the dosage a bit more. Inviting Eight to a game of chess was not only a chance to observe the kid in a closer distance, but also an opportunity to gauge his mental prowess and his current opinion on the situation.</p><p> </p><p>As the game progresses, he can see the boy start to enjoy the game more and more. The more he cornered the white pieces, the more the kid seems to focus on his next move.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald decided that he could start asking questions now. "How was your first mission?"</p><p> </p><p>A slight tremor.</p><p> </p><p>"...Fine."</p><p> </p><p>"You used to like going on missions." Reginald moved his bishop to target Eight's wayward knight.</p><p> </p><p>Eight blinked before moving his knight away. "I did?"</p><p> </p><p>The Monocle did not deem the useless question an answer, instead he moved the bishop in a strategic position. </p><p> </p><p>All in all, Reginald believed that they had a good chance that Eight had not realized anything yet. The boy had looked normally confused and uncomfortable with his siblings but was amazingly fast in adapting to the current situation.  So far, the personality that he was showing was in line with the man that Reginald had drank with on that fateful day in 1963. However, Reginald was still waiting before choosing a verdict. Depending on how this conversation will go, he may need to modify the boy's will a bit more. Though if possible, he would like to avoid that solution as it ran a risk of completely destroying Eight's mind. </p><p> </p><p>What was Eight thinking now? How is he taking the situation? Was he accepting of his apparent home or was he suspicious of it? If so, then how much of the lie has he deciphered on his own?</p><p> </p><p>"You called me here for a reason," the Boy stated in a knowing tone, and instead of defending the position currently in danger, he moved his queen for an attack of his own. "But I will appreciate it if you refrain from doing actions that will make them misunderstand. My siblings are starting to hate me."</p><p> </p><p>Reginald did not expect that answer.</p><p> </p><p>"I was under the impression that you were trying to be as hateful as possible."</p><p> </p><p>Eight chuckled nervously. "I'm not... I just... don't know how to react to them sometimes."</p><p> </p><p>Embarrassment flickered on Eight's face before he lets it disappear with a slight cough. </p><p> </p><p>This was...not an unwelcome situation. Eight appeared to be more distracted about his relationship with the rest of the Academy. But it does makes sense. If the boy was stranded on the apocalypse for that long, then it was only natural that he was subconsciously more concerned with trying to belong with his supposed family. </p><p> </p><p>Reginald can make use of that.</p><p> </p><p>But before anything else, a final test is in order. </p><p> </p><p>He captured a pawn. "Check."</p><p> </p><p>The Boy winced as he sacrificed his queen. </p><p> </p><p>"How was your wrist?"</p><p> </p><p>"My what?"</p><p> </p><p>"The scar on your left wrist," Reginald clarified. He carefully watched Eight's face.</p><p> </p><p>The boy curled his brows, confused, before rolling his sleeves and glancing at his left arm. The umbrella tattoo was no longer visible due to the large amount of scars that covered Eight's arms. </p><p> </p><p>Reginald waited for a spark of something that could symbolize that a memory was being triggered, but Eight simply blinked at the sight.</p><p> </p><p>"I... didn't know that I self-harmed."</p><p> </p><p>"And we'd appreciate it if you never do it again," Reginald hid a smile before making his final move. "Check mate."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Life's a chessboard and everyone is disposable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Five is a child, and he deserves to have some fun while playing with his Dad.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The game was fun. Actually, really fun. Eight knew from the start that Reginald was smart and very careful but seeing it in action was a different story altogether. </p><p>And during the game, an idea had started forming in his mind and it swallowed his thoughts like murky, heavy mud. The more fun he experienced while playing with Reginald, the more the idea seduces him.</p><p>He could barely stop the grin that was spreading on his face and a glance at the mirror in his room confirmed the almost manic glint in his eyes.</p><p><em>Tempting...</em> The idea was so fucking tempting.</p><p> </p><p>And he'd enjoy it! He was sure he'd enjoy every second of it!</p><p> </p><p>Killing a random criminal could probably do it to him. But if he killed someone innocent, someone who can't defend themselves, Eight might lose his mind from the euphoria of such an illegal act. In fact, he spent the whole of last night fantasizing about torturing someone in a lone alley.</p><p> </p><p>It was wrong but it felt <em>right.</em></p><p> </p><p>And who cares about anyone else, anyway?</p><p> </p><p>But now, there was a different fantasy running on his head.</p><p> </p><p>Murder was the main dish but Eight found out that a good mind game with a capable opponent, is just the perfect dessert. And there was no need to choose one from the other, he can do both! He can have both!</p><p> </p><p>He clutched his hands close to his chest, the excitement filling him with adrenaline and accelerating the beats of his heart to a staccato.</p><p> </p><p>He felt like he was going to burst with joy just from the mere thought and if just a thought was enough to get him in this state, what would <em>actually</em> doing it make him feel?</p><p> </p><p><em>No, he shouldn't.</em> Eight sobered up, the though felt like he was doused with cold, freezing water. <em>They were irritating but they're family. And Eight can't replace them.</em></p><p> </p><p>In an effort to calm himself, Eight distanced himself away from the idea on his head. </p><p> </p><p>Instead, he jumped to an empty bathroom -a place with no cameras, he knows because he thoroughly checked - and stripped himself in front of a large mirror.</p><p> </p><p>Eight was man enough to admit that he neglected to examine himself, he was too busy watching his environment that he never even noticed the scar on his wrist. He was curious if he had more. </p><p> </p><p>And yes, there were more. There were scars on his right wrist but significantly smaller in number. A few more was located in his thighs. </p><p> </p><p>He blinked at the reflection, perplexed at the feeling that he expected more. Aside from the few vertical and horizontal slashes from blades of different sizes, there were no other scars to be found.</p><p> </p><p>Distractedly, he clothed himself once again as his mind travelled a mile for every millisecond. Once again, he glanced at the scars on his left wrist. </p><p> </p><p><em>Wrong.</em> Something was very wrong. Missing. Incorrect. Something wasn't there. It was a part of him. Wrong. Sentiments. Sentiments. Family. Wrong. WRONG.</p><p> </p><p>His felt his anger growing stronger at the conclusion that he was starting to form. </p><p> </p><p>His family were liars. They were ALL liars.</p><p> </p><p>Number Six was capable of healing him and yet there were scars on his body that looked old. Why wouldn't she completely heal him unless these scars were hiding something that they don't want him to see?</p><p> </p><p>He was doing missions at a young age, apparently enjoying it, so would it not make sense that there should be other scars or any sign of a previous injury, scattered along his body aside from those that looked like traces of self-harm? They were children, they were bound to get injured somehow. But there was nothing and it was a reasonable conclusion to make that Six had healed them completely.</p><p> </p><p>So why leave this? Why remind him of the fact that he used to self-harm (something that Reginald found unpleasant) when they could just erase it from his body and Eight would never know?</p><p> </p><p>Reginald was a smart man. He would never do anything without a reason.</p><p> </p><p>There was a lie in there somewhere. An elaborate lie that they were trying to hide from Eight. </p><p> </p><p>His family was untrustworthy after all. <strong><em>Enemies.</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>He made eye-contact with the reflection on the mirror. The ferocity that he felt multiplied as he watched himself grit his teeth in anger. The glint in his eyes promised violence and blood.</p><p> </p><p>He found himself thinking back about his previous idea. This time, he did not dissuade himself.</p><p> </p><p>They deserved it.</p><p> </p><p>And Eight will enjoy Every Fucking Second of doing it.</p><p> </p><p>The game was on, and Eight was excited in trying to know how long it will take for Reginald to figure out who was slowly killing the precious members of his valuable academy.</p><p> </p><p>He did not care for winning. As long as they all suffer with him, then it was a game worth playing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next morning, the Academy was called for a meeting.</p><p> </p><p>Every single member of the Sparrow Academy lined up in front of Reginald's desk, as the old man himself interlaced his fingers with his elbows resting on the table.</p><p> </p><p>"The Umbrella Academy escaped the hotel."</p><p> </p><p>The single declaration was enough for tension to bleed into the room.</p><p> </p><p>"The what now?" Eight asked because he had never heard of it, and because it was only expected of him to ask because he's the resident amnesiac in this family of manipulating liars, himself included.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald was staring at him, and there was a twinkle of mirth in his crinkled eyes that Eight instantly wanted to gouge out.</p><p> </p><p>"Our enemies, people with powers just like us," was One's simple answer.</p><p> </p><p><em>Ah, </em>Eight hid his amusement<em>, a few more pawns to play with. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Perfect.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They're heeeeerrreeee (incoherent screaming)</p><p>Thank you for all the support! You have no idea how happy I am with all the comments!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Solidarity and Solitude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Umbrella Academy just wants to go home.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reginald did not raise the Umbrella Academy with love and Diego would very much like to know where Five had managed to scrounge the amount of devotion that he had towards them. Because while he had never entertained the notion in his wildest dreams, the thought was unmistakable now.</p><p> </p><p>Five loves them. Loves them so much that he was willing to wreck his body to ensure their escape time and time again. And Diego and his siblings want him to stop because the fucker keeps on scraping at his own well-being like its nothing and all of them felt like they didn't deserve the bleeding shards of their youngest (oldest) brother's heart.</p><p> </p><p>For the fourth time since they had the misfortune of time-travelling straight to Reginald's brand new Academy complete with a lame name and jackshits and jackheads, the Umbrella Academy was once again in the process of hiding their asses on some dilapidated apartment that Allison rumored them into occupying.</p><p> </p><p>And damn, were they tired of running, hiding, and fighting for their lives. And this is Diego who had willingly looked for fights as a vigilante talking.</p><p> </p><p>The door opened and Allison peered in. "How is he?" </p><p> </p><p>Diego tossed the knife in mid-air and then caught it deftly with his right hand. <em>Rinse, repeat.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Still asleep," was his curt answer. Next to his seat, laid his littlest brother who had knocked himself out cold the moment he transported them all to a nearby alley. The nosebleed (which was alarming as fuck) had stopped a few minutes ago and hopefully their brother had not gone into coma from sheer abuse of his powers.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Rinse, repeat.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Allison sighed before gesturing at the people behind him. She and the rest of their siblings entered the room and Diego refrained from yelling at them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Team Zero. Team Zero.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Why the fuck did you stop being a look-out?" The question was directed at Klaus who had the gall to look affronted.</p><p> </p><p>"Allison told me to come! I was soooooo enjoying staring at the empty alley for 4 hours straight and would very much like to continue doing so!"</p><p> </p><p>Before Diego could try and yell about why they needed a look out in the first place, Allison shushed him. </p><p> </p><p>"Look, I know we need to be vigilant. But I... I think we need to talk and this time's our best bet because they never find us this early." Allison explained and Vanya grasped her hand in a show of support.</p><p> </p><p>Diego softened up. He knew that most of them was unused to using their powers, much less fight with it and all in all, everyone had been doing a great job of holding on.  "About what?" </p><p> </p><p>This time, it was Luther who spoke up. "About us."</p><p> </p><p>Allison looked at Five who was still laying on the bed. "All of us."</p><p> </p><p>Five, despite extreme exhaustion, was still a light sleeper and it didn't surprise Diego when he opened his eyes from just that.</p><p> </p><p>He slowly rose from his lying position and Diego can see that everyone was holding themselves back from trying to offer help. Diego tried to hide his hands that had automatically outstretched itself towards his brother's general direction, he masterfully aborted the movement by scratching at his face. Five rarely reacts well to being taken care of and the siblings were learning the right amount of distance and silence needed to be given to their brother at times like these. It didn't make it anymore as bearable though. </p><p> </p><p>Because Five was deteriorating fast. He vomits more than he eats. Had fainted more than going to sleep. Had more nightmares than rest. He shakes and breaks right before their very eyes and they want him to stop sacrificing so much for them. </p><p> </p><p>They didn't deserve it. They have done nothing to deserve it. But yet, here they are.</p><p> </p><p>Luther was quick to take a seat at the side of Five's bed, his big body had proved to be useful in getting close to Five and providing physical comfort while being subtle. His large frame, whether consciously or not, had taken up a lot of space, effectively ensuring that Five can easily lean on him because he can't even sit upright anymore without swaying. </p><p> </p><p>They didn't acknowledge the way Five leaned on Luther's shoulder almost immediately, the way his blinks grew slower, nor the choked sound that came out of his mouth. The more they try to take care of Five, the more he tries to hide just how bad his condition was. They could never seem to get him to rely on them completely and deep down, Diego knows why. Five was alone for so long that reaching out and having someone grasp his hand is more of a miracle than a probability. </p><p> </p><p>And he did reach out to them. During the second apocalypse, he had repeatedly reached out for them, and they were the ones who slapped his hand away. Even Diego needed threatening for him to start cooperating.</p><p> </p><p>And now they were paying for not leaving the timeline sooner.</p><p> </p><p>It was frustrating how useless Diego felt. They could not even fight properly without being a liability to one another. And no matter what they did, the Sparrow Academy was quicker to bounce back (healers are not fucking fair).</p><p> </p><p>The longer the chase-and-fight goes on, the weaker they all get. And Five...</p><p> </p><p>Diego could not explain the constant nosebleed, the fainting, the alarming lethargy, the... the seizures without coming to a conclusion that he did not like.</p><p> </p><p>Five, was quite possibly, dying, and it was all their fault.</p><p> </p><p>They were killing him and Diego could only wish that he'd stop caring for them so much. If Five was alone, Diego knew that he could survive. If Five could just abandon them here, then he could be anywhere, <em>anywhen.</em> But all of them are beginning to realize that Five will never leave without them.</p><p> </p><p>It was both a heartwarming and heart wrenching realization.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus broke the ice. "So? What gossip are we thinking of?" </p><p> </p><p>It was the closest to nervous Allison was going to get but she shouldered on. "I want us to talk. To get everything out in the open. Our lives are in danger, and we get into more fights with each other than against the Sparrow Academy and this must stop. Now."</p><p> </p><p>It was true. Despite going through two apocalypses, unity is the farthest description that can be given to Team Zero. They had spent more time away from each other than together, and in the face of non-stop stressful situations, tensions ran high and arguments comes in waves. Their teamwork was shit.</p><p> </p><p>And one person was paying for it.</p><p> </p><p>"Wait... We're having family therapy now?" Klaus looked incredulous but excited at the same time. </p><p> </p><p>Vanya and Allison nodded at the same time and Klaus lets out a whoop. Diego pretends to be irritated at the prospect for appearance sake. </p><p> </p><p>"Let's start!" Allison clapped her hand.</p><p> </p><p>The silence that followed was deafening. </p><p> </p><p>Diego believes that they needed this, but there's no way in hell he's going to start this shit.</p><p> </p><p>Luther cleared his throat and Diego almost, almost thanked him. "First, I want to say I'm sorry for causing the first apocalypse."</p><p> </p><p>Vanya's head immediately shot up at that. "What? No? I'm the one who's sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"Me too." Diego, Allison and Klaus simultaneously said, and they exchanged glances at each other. Diego shuddered, that was creepy.</p><p> </p><p>They looked at Five who just scoffed at them. </p><p> </p><p>This will be a long, fucking day.</p><p> </p><p>After a few more seconds of them just staring imploringly at Five, he relented. "I'm sorry for not telling you all about it sooner... and I'm sorry for trying to kill you, Vanya. And I'm sorry for getting Klaus tortured."</p><p> </p><p>The sincere apology from one of their most tight-lipped sibling was enough to destroy the metaphorical dam. Apologies were said, forgiveness was given and sometimes arguments happen, but it was actually liberating, in a way.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry for not talking about Ben."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, that was a shithead thing to do."</p><p> </p><p>"Like you can talk, Diego. Remember Dad's funeral?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not the only one who's shit here!"</p><p> </p><p>"Guys, I'm sorry for thinking that you killed Dad."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, believe me Luther, don't be. The moment I see that bitch again, I'm killing him."</p><p> </p><p>"No, I will!"</p><p> </p><p>"If someone deserved to kill Dad, can't I do it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, he locked me in the mausoleum, I think I deserve to kill him!"</p><p> </p><p>"If we're talking about trauma-"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh no, we are NOT going there."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, we <em>are</em>!"</p><p> </p><p>Five lets out a weak chuckle and it effectively silenced them in a way that not even Reginald could do.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya stared at Five before looking down at her hands with guilt. "I'm sorry for not being there when you needed us on time, Five. I was so focused on Sissy and Harlan that I never even stopped to consider about the after."</p><p> </p><p>Klaus nodded, strangely solemn. "Yeah, if we didn't mess up so much of the timeline by mingling with all those people..."</p><p> </p><p>They all nodded.</p><p> </p><p>"Stop." There was surprising strength in Five's tone when he spoke. He was still leaning on Luther but the fire that burned in his eyes was so powerful, that once again Diego was reminded that this little child had seen more hell than they ever did.</p><p> </p><p>"I know, okay." Despite the fire in his eyes, there is both steel and empathy in his voice. "I know what it's like to be alone. I know that you needed someone to survive. If you have to get married, find another family, just to survive then you have done nothing that I did not want you to do. Don't. Ever. Apologize to me for staying alive."</p><p> </p><p>Five looked at them in the eyes and he spoke his next words like he wants to engrave it to their skin. "Even if it changes the timeline, even if it changed hundreds of lives, do whatever it takes to survive, anything else is irrelevant to me."</p><p> </p><p>They were struck speechless at that. </p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, it was Vanya who broke the silence this time. "Back to you."</p><p> </p><p>Five blinked at that.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya approached him and grasped her brother's hands in such a gentle way that Diego thinks she’s cupping a flower instead. "I know this is unfair to ask of you, I know that we're taking so much from you. Its selfish, I know, but you <strong>have</strong> to survive for us too."</p><p> </p><p>Five didn't look like he was breathing, and he was staring at Vanya like he couldn't believe what she's saying. And it strikes a fire of anger in Diego. It was anger at the world for doing this to his brother and anger at himself for not being there for him. The world was unfair, he knows that, but Diego wanted it to stop focusing on them so damn much. </p><p> </p><p>"Let's go home, all of us." Diego said, and he spoke it like a promise, he means for it to be as such. </p><p> </p><p>That night while Five takes his much needed rest, the remaining Hargreeves vowed to each other that they will be better.</p><p> </p><p>This time, they will be there when Five needed them, when anyone of them needed one another. Now that they were beginning to realize that the whole world is against their existence, they have come to notice that they only have each other to lose.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But three days was all it took for them to break it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Diego would never forget the way all of them reached for each other as they were thrown inside the hotel.</p><p> </p><p>He would never forget the way Five weakly screamed their name, as if the boy's heart was being wrenched out of him. </p><p> </p><p>Inside the hotel, while facing Diego's greatest fear, he could never forget the words that Five had carved to their heart.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Do whatever it takes to survive."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Diego vowed to never forget and so did the rest of his siblings inside the hotel. It was inevitable that they overcame their greatest fear and found each other. It was inevitable that they will find their way out, because they are determined, desperate and <strong><em>furious.</em></strong></p><p> </p><p>Team Zero will never allow themselves to forget: They're all going home, whatever it takes.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight did not want to go home anymore.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for all the comments, I never expected that I will have this much support. You guys are the best.</p><p>And for those wondering why Five was in a critical condition,</p><p>Its seconds, not decades<br/>Rinse, repeat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Fallout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Five was no more.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I may not be able to reply to all the comments but I figured a new chapter is the best way to show my gratitude so here (shyly hands it to you)<br/>take it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the day was spent looking for the so-called Umbrella Academy. They sounded like a rip-off from their name, but he didn't like either of the names anyway so who cares which ones were the original?</p><p> </p><p>Eight would have liked to go around the city too but Reginald forbade him from joining their little mission. Instead, he was briefed about the various members of the Umbrella Academy complete with pictures and a simple round down of their powers.</p><p> </p><p>Frankly, they didn't seem like much to Eight but he knows better than to judge a person from their appearance. <em>I mean, look at me,</em> he chuckled inwardly.</p><p> </p><p>He dutifully listened and despite Reginald's shortcomings, Eight did appreciate the information dump.</p><p> </p><p>The Umbrella Academy had five members with Vanya being labelled as the most dangerous. They were time travelers equipped with a very powerful briefcase capable of traversing through time and apparently, <em>apparently,</em> they bring the apocalypse wherever they go.</p><p> </p><p>Talk about unfortunate.</p><p> </p><p>After the briefing, Eight spent the rest of the day in the library, pouring over the rest of the enemy files that the Sparrow Academy had and had yet to encounter. He also studied the map of their city and the nearby cities as well. Teleporting would be easier if he had a more concrete idea and more variables to include in his equation, after all. </p><p> </p><p>Additionally, he also marked places of interest in his brain and made a mental note to check them out later especially the nearby donut shop, it seemed like a place with coffee. Definitely a priority. </p><p> </p><p>He was careful to stay out of the camera's sight, just because he felt like he was the kind of person to not enjoy being watched while he reads. It would be remiss of him to act out of character.</p><p> </p><p>After that, for appearance's sake and to remain consistent with his lie (and to waste time), Eight read a book about how to get along with people. He didn't like pretending to be something that he is not, but he did enjoy a good trickery. As long as he focuses on the deception part, he did not find it hard to play a role.</p><p> </p><p>And that was how Four had found him, sequestered in a hidden part of the library reading a self-help book.</p><p> </p><p>After making sure that Four had enough of a second to read the title, he hurriedly threw it away. The book hit a nearby vase which fell with a crash and Eight appropriately winced at the (deliberate) mistake. The fucking vase was ugly.</p><p> </p><p>Four made an amused chuckle. "What was that?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nothing," Eight replied while standing up. He changed the subject like any embarrassed person would. "Why are you here?"</p><p> </p><p> "To read, same as you." The amused look had yet to disappear from Four's face. "Never on such an embarrassing topic though."</p><p> </p><p>Jesting, huh. Eight can play with that.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't tell anyone," He lets a small part of a please join his tone. Eight could vomit now.</p><p> </p><p>"About the book, sure. About the vase, no."</p><p> </p><p>Eight changed the topic once again. "Did you find them?"</p><p> </p><p>"No."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next day would have probably been spent trying to locate the elusive Umbrella Academy once again, but the mission alarm had put a temporary halt to that plan.</p><p> </p><p>It was the cliché one: Hostage for money. Eight would have yawned just for the sake of it but he had a role to play so he just pretended to be irritated.</p><p> </p><p>The whole museum together with its employees and guests are the hostage. Armed criminals had been placed everywhere in the museum and the person in charge of the crime was announcing his demands with a megaphone.</p><p> </p><p>500 million dollars for the next 5 hours or everyone will be riddled with holes. Eight was looking forward to watching the carnage except they're here to stop it. <em>Bummer.</em></p><p> </p><p>The sight of the Sparrow Academy entering the scene had lit a spark of hope to the haggard people scrambling about trying to negotiate for more time.</p><p> </p><p>It was too large of an amount for a single bank to carry and too little of a time to reach other cities and travel with such a large sum. Overall, it was an unreasonable demand and either the criminals are extremely dumb to not realize that or they are crazy.</p><p> </p><p>They probably didn't even want the money. They want the fear and the chaos from demanding it.</p><p> </p><p>Eight could understand the sentiment.</p><p> </p><p>And if the manic look at the leader's eyes were any indication...</p><p> </p><p>Oh... <em>Oh...</em> Is he...?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It took all of Eight's self-control to refrain the urge from snorting right then and there. The outfit, the audacity of not hiding his face and the lack of fear of that leader, it’s definitely possible.</p><p> </p><p>The Sparrow Academy was quick to plan their approach. Eight would teleport with Three inside the museum and Three would transform herself as one of them to locate the hostages. They'll come back and next, Eight would teleport Four so that he could erect his barrier and protect the hostages.</p><p> </p><p>And with no hostages, the criminals are free to be consumed to their leisure.</p><p> </p><p>"Give me a map of the museum." Eight demanded.</p><p> </p><p>"You don't even need that to teleport, right?" </p><p> </p><p>"Do you want us to get randomly teleported and risk getting riddled with holes or do you want me to choose a safer spot? Take your pick."</p><p> </p><p>They promptly gave him a map.</p><p> </p><p>"Seven, the moment the barrier is done, kill the leader." One ordered.</p><p> </p><p>So, they weren't as incompetent as Eight thought.</p><p> </p><p>The cube made a weird whirring sound which is probably assent. Who the fuck knows?</p><p> </p><p>The plan was put into action and was followed quite professionally that Eight almost felt sorry for the criminals. Before the leader could even do anything, his head was blasted off with a well-positioned laser. It was quite a fountain.</p><p> </p><p>Subtly, while everyone was busy fighting, Eight crouched down to the headless corpse and patted it down. He promptly stole the detonator from it.</p><p> </p><p>Don't get him wrong, Eight was ready for the long game. In fact, he believes that it will make the murder much harder to swallow. If he builds the Academy's trust and break it in front of their miserable faces, wouldn't that create a more satisfying sight?</p><p> </p><p>But <em>this</em> -he pockets the detonator in his jacket- this was an opportunity and the spontaneity of it was perfect. He WANTS to take it.</p><p> </p><p>Ah to be a smart person who loses to their emotional impulse... What a conundrum.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They were in the middle of moving the hostages out and combing the place for more survivors, enemy or not, and Eight was outside the museum with One and Six watching it all happen. </p><p> </p><p>Two of them are beginning to relax when a powerful voice echoed outside the museum with the aid of a megaphone.</p><p> </p><p>"I heard a rumor that all of you stopped moving."</p><p> </p><p>The effect was instantaneous. Police officers, hostages, captured criminals, and even the Sparrow Academy was frozen. </p><p> </p><p>They waited for an opportunity and had done it from a distance to ensure that they weren't detected, Eight was a bit impressed. Simple plan but it works, who was he to judge?</p><p> </p><p>The members of the Umbrella Academy approached the Sparrows closest to them which were One and Six.</p><p> </p><p>A man, which Eight remembers to be named Diego, yelled. "Where the hell is Five?!"</p><p> </p><p><em>Five?</em> <em>Why were they looking for his brother?</em></p><p> </p><p>Klaus chuckled. "Yeah, talk to the frozen statue."</p><p> </p><p>The largest man that Eight had ever seen was staring at him with wide eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh... guys?"</p><p> </p><p>"Look, Ben where - "</p><p> </p><p>"Not Ben!"</p><p> </p><p>"-the hell is Five?"</p><p> </p><p>"Guys!" The ensuing argument was derailed early due to the booming loud voice of Luther. He pointed at Eight.</p><p> </p><p>If Eight wasn't frozen, he would have blinked, perplexed, as he saw the immediate glee that sparked on the eyes of the Umbrella Academy at the sight of him.</p><p> </p><p>The rumor left him like the wind releasing from his lungs. </p><p> </p><p>"Five!" Allison yelled and hurriedly wrapped her arms around Eight.</p><p> </p><p><em>Five?</em> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Are they talking about him?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He peered at the relief and joy decorating the Umbrella Academy's faces. They looked like they were restraining themselves from joining the hug.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>'All we know is that they wanted you.' Reginald explained as the briefing comes to an end. 'They would approach you and try to worm their way into you. Be careful.'</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Eight did not trust Reginald at all.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Allison." Eight wrapped his arms around Allison as he gingerly whispers her name. He could feel the tension releasing from the woman tenderly clutching at him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight swiftly sticks the needle at her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He heard the Umbrella Academy screaming the woman's name. He felt her pull away from him with the most devastated, betrayed look in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He watched as those same eyes rolled, the rumor fading together with the woman's consciousness.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Eight trusts no one.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. UnSTaBLe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Five can't forget right.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight trusts no one.</p><p><em>Especially</em> people who act like they're family. </p><p>He should have killed Allison there and then because among all of the Umbrella Academy, Eight thinks that she was the most dangerous for him. </p><p><br/>But he couldn't. He can't even trust his body to move. The thud of her body falling to the ground was like a punch to his stomach. </p><p><br/>He teleported a few meters away before the Umbrella Academy could try and enact revenge on him. Eight wasn't breathing right. His body didn't feel right.</p><p><br/>The look of pain and sorrow in Allison's eyes was seared on his brain and Eight had found no pleasure in it. Something had broken in him and he felt like a stake went through his heart.</p><p><br/>It hurts. Why does it hurt so much?</p><p> </p><p>With the rumor gone, One didn't hesitate to call upon the monsters in his stomach. Both members of the Academy sprang into action and Eight watched as Luther clutched Allison's prone form like a protective bear.</p><p> </p><p>"Five? W-why?" He can hear Luther's heart breaking just from his tone. </p><p><br/>Eight can't stop hearing the sound of something breaking, creaking, rattling, vibrating.</p><p> </p><p>It hurts.</p><p> </p><p>What's happening to him?</p><p> </p><p>Eight could see the eyebags in Luther's eyes and the unshed tears. Right, the Umbrella Academy had just went through hell a day before and they're here for what?</p><p> </p><p>They should have rested more. They should have taken their time to recuperate. They should NOT be here. NOT HERE. It’s not safe for them here.</p><p> </p><p>Hurts. It hurts. You're hurting them. How dare you? <strong>How dare you?!</strong></p><p> </p><p>Eight wants to claw at something.</p><p> </p><p>Number Two crashed from inside the museum into the scene by using the window like it was a hole in the wall. The sound of glass breaking had spiked the panic in Eight's heart, sending his mind reeling from the adrenaline rush.</p><p> </p><p>Several instincts grappled for control in his tiny body. He can't think straight. He can't see straight. He keeps hearing things he shouldn't hear.</p><p> </p><p>Screaming. Crying. Bleeding. Shuddering. Cold. Warmth. Hot. Pain. It hurts it hurts. Stop. Stop. Kill. Stop. Run. Go. No. Stop. Mine. None. </p><p> </p><p>Nothing. <em>Nothing.</em> Everything. Something. <strong>Nothing.</strong> </p><p><br/>"Five, what the hell are you doing?! We need to go home!" Diego yelled as he dodged a tentacle.</p><p> </p><p>"Diego, I don't think Five's alright." Klaus looked devastated but there was also a look of concern in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Allison?" Vanya asked right as she deploys an energy wave that immediately knocks out all the birds that Two had conjured.</p><p> </p><p>"She's fine, just asleep," Luther yelled as he carried Allison easily and dodged a tentacle.</p><p> </p><p>Fear gripped Eight's chest at the close call.</p><p> </p><p>What's happening? What the fuck is happening?</p><p> </p><p>Its almost as if he, as if he-</p><p> </p><p>The thought was broken by a frost-like sensation forming in his skull and it forcibly calmed him down. Blissfully, his head cleared along with every scattered thought that wreaked havoc in his mind.</p><p><br/>What was he thinking again? What? He feels weird. This feels weird. <em>What?</em></p><p><br/>"Fivey? What's wrong? What's happening?" Klaus slowly tries to approach Eight but Six blocked his way.</p><p> </p><p>"He's Eight." Was the simple words that she said. "And get away from our brother, druggie."</p><p> </p><p>"Wh-" Klaus sputtered at that. "Brother? Your brother?! He's Five! He's our brother!"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not." Eight sneered at him. He is no one's brother. </p><p> </p><p>"You're kidding me." There's disbelief in Klaus' tone but slowly it devolves into anger. "You're kidding me... That fucking dick! What did he do to you?!"</p><p><br/>Diego threw a knife at One, which curved and hit straight to One's shoulder. "Shit. Shit. Of course nothing's going right for us. Shit! Klaus, get away from him!"</p><p> </p><p>Diego was bleeding too. And even he had the same eyebags as the rest of his family. </p><p> </p><p>Eight thought that the Umbrella Academy were smart, but they were actually quite reckless. With the way things are going, it was almost undeniable that the Sparrow Academy will win.</p><p> </p><p>Idiots. Fucking, braindead idiots.</p><p> </p><p>Six attacked Klaus who barely dodged in time because he was too focused on Eight. In fact, all of the members of the Umbrella Academy were too focused at Eight despite being in the middle of fighting for their lives.  They are begging at him with just a look.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Come with us.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Let's go home.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eight doesn't want a home. Eight doesn't need a home. </p><p> </p><p>"Five, buddy, Vanya's already done the amnesia card! You have to snap out of it!"</p><p> </p><p>They need to leave. They HAVE to leave.</p><p> </p><p>"Eight, don't believe them! They're liars!" Two yelled.</p><p> </p><p>"No, I am not! Not this time, atleast!"</p><p> </p><p>"Klaus, you're not helping things!"</p><p> </p><p>"Five, please, please we need to go. We fixed the briefcase! We can go home now!" This time, it was Vanya who was yelling. She was in the middle of facing off with Two and Four, who had just recently joined the fight.</p><p> </p><p>Eight took out the handgun he stole from one of the criminals and pointed it at Klaus, who was still trying to get closer to him.</p><p> </p><p>"Klaus!"</p><p> </p><p>"Shit!"</p><p> </p><p>"Five, please don't do this."</p><p><br/>"What makes you think that I would like to go with your incompetent ass?" Eight coldly spoke.</p><p> </p><p>At the corner of his eye, he can see Six watching him thoroughly.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus did not seem afraid, just pleading "Fiv-"</p><p> </p><p>"Eight" he grits the name out. He's Eight. Always been Eight.</p><p> </p><p>Eight. Eight. Eight. Eight. Don't shoot. No. Kill them. No. Don't shoot. <em>Mine.</em> None. Please. Don't. He's Eight. He's no one. No one's anyone. Don't shoot. Shoot. Nothing matters. Please. Save me. <em>Save me.</em></p><p>The clamor of disconnected thoughts was cleared again by the icy feeling in his brain and Eight calmly pulled the trigger. He'd be lying if he said he didn't expect the bullet to get redirected by Diego, but he used the moment's distraction to get behind Klaus and kick his legs from underneath him. Klaus fell with an oomph and Eight did not hesitate to stomp the man's right leg.</p><p> </p><p>A sickening crunch reverberated in the open space followed by a scream of pain. It was a clear declaration, Eight was taking none of their shit.</p><p> </p><p>Eight grinned maniacally through the horrified screams that followed. </p><p> </p><p>"Shit, Klaus!"</p><p> </p><p>Eight would have kicked Klaus' prone body but a swing from a bluish form that came out of nowhere had effectively stopped him as he teleported away.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus was staring at Eight with disbelief and undeniable grief. His hands are glowing blue, his fists clenched tight but his form was shaking. The ghost that he conjured had flickered out and Klaus gazed at Eight imploringly.</p><p> </p><p>"Fivey, please. I don't want to fight you. Please don't do this."</p><p> </p><p>It was terrifying how Klaus could control something so intangible. It was a sneaky power, a ghost could watch anyone from anywhere with no one the wiser, it could get close to a living being, suddenly materialize and stab anyone from close distance.</p><p> </p><p>It was why he was priority number 2 of people Eight should kill among the Umbrellas. His powers are much too flexible and too much of a nuisance.</p><p><br/>The impassive way that Eight had gazed at Klaus must have been enough for Klaus to realize: This wasn't their brother.</p><p> </p><p>They have already lost their brother. They didn't make it in time, <em>again.</em></p><p> </p><p>Klaus can still remember the way Five had screamed angrily at them the first time it happened, he declared that it was every sibling for themselves now. Yet the next day, he had already formulated a new plan to save them. And when Vanya had asked for help, he was there for her when she had never done the same for him.</p><p> </p><p>This time, Five had well and truly abandoned them. Some part of Klaus can't even blame him.</p><p><br/>"Shit, we need to go!" Luther declared, already realizing that this fight was not something they could win especially when all of them are so unwilling to fight Five. The problem was that Klaus was too far from them and too close to the enemy for comfort. <em>Enemy, Five's the enemy now,</em> Luther can barely stomach the thought.</p><p><br/>Six hurriedly rushed inside, probably to call for more back-up, which just added weight to the pressure that Luther was already feeling in his stomach. He doubts that they can escape, two of their members were already incapable of running away and they don't even have Five to teleport them away anymore.</p><p><br/>"You can't escape. This is over now." One had declared knowingly.</p><p><br/>Eight knew that One was right. He knew that they have won. The Umbrella Academy knows it too.</p><p> </p><p>It was only a matter of time till they kill the rest of the Umbrella Academy and have a little celebratory dinner.</p><p> </p><p><br/>The Sparrows will kill them and Eight would enjoy every drop of blood that he can get. He would, he would, he would.</p><p> </p><p>Can he? Would he? <em>Why?</em> <strong>Why not?</strong></p><p> </p><p>He would but he can't. He could but he shouldn't. He can't. He can't. stop dying. Stop. Dying. Survive. Run. No. Kill them. Protect them. Run. Survive.</p><p> </p><p>FORGET.</p><p>Eight clutched his head, the ice felt more freezing now. He was certain that his head was being submerged in cold water.</p><p> </p><p>Forget them. Forget them. You're nothing now. Nothing. Kill them and you'll feel something. You want that something. You want it, don't lie. Kill them<br/> Forget<br/>    Forget. </p><p> </p><p>"Vanya, get Klaus! We need to go!"</p><p> </p><p>"But Five!"</p><p> </p><p>Don't leave. Don't leave. Please don't leave. Save me. Save me. Save me. </p><p> </p><p>Forget them. </p><p> </p><p>"They'll kill us! We need to go and we need to go now!"</p><p> </p><p>When asked later, Eight would not be able to explain what happened next. The memory was washed away like everything else that matters, frozen by the chemical still lingering in his brain.</p><p> </p><p>But at the moment, he zeroed in on Luther's words: The Umbrella Academy will die and they need to leave. They need to live. Eight needs them to live.</p><p> </p><p>It was all Eight was capable of thinking about. Every instinct in his body had made way for the powerful surge of protectiveness that crashed on Eight like a freight train. He was hyper focused on one goal and not even the logical part in him can question why he's doing it.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing could have stopped Eight from saving those strangers. Not even himself. </p><p> </p><p>It doesn't matter if Eight wanted to kill them. It doesn't matter if Eight wanted to be saved. It doesn't matter if Eight was still confused of everything. It doesn't matter that several innocent people are still inside the museum. Hell, it doesn't even matter if Eight's careful plan gets wrecked.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing matters except for what's in front of him. They're everything and the above are just something they might as well be nothing.</p><p> </p><p>All that matters was that they get to leave and survive. All that matters was that Eight could provide them the distraction they need to SURVIVE. Even if he loses them. Even if he forgets.</p><p> </p><p>Survive. </p><p>Run away. </p><p>Abandon me.</p><p>Live. </p><p>Do whatever it takes.</p><p><br/>Eight is irrelevant.<br/>Everything else is irrelevant. </p><p><br/>Without an inch of remorse, Eight pushed the detonator. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you liked this chapter :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Lying Liars Lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eight's probably beyond saving.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A large boom can be heard across the whole city and the poor museum didn't stand a chance, Eight expected the fact because he had checked the locations of the bomb beforehand, hidden some of it in a better location on a whim. Before Eight could be swept away from the force of it, he teleported away. Klaus was taken by the momentum of the explosion which sends him rolling away until Luther scoops him up while he carries Allison on his other hand.</p><p>The museum caved in on itself with a large crash. The sound of glass breaking and concrete hitting concrete was enough to spark a temporary lapse in the fight. </p><p><br/>"What the fuck was that?!"</p><p> </p><p>"Shit! The others are still inside!" Four exclaimed.</p><p><br/>Eight knows that. He pressed the detonator while knowing that. But why? Why did he press it? He can't... He can't quite remember.</p><p> </p><p>Did the instinct to wreak havoc at the museum finally won inside of him and he pressed it without thinking? Or did he push it on a whim? Knowing himself, it wasn't quite that impossible.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn't change the fact that Eight did not like having his memory be compromised. That wasn't normal. Was it an effect of the time coma or was it from another source entirely? Eight would need to investigate on that.</p><p> </p><p>Several people had screamed, the majority of the sound coming from the former hostages who were fortunate enough to have left the museum before it exploded. The police officers were in panic too, scrambling around and pulling people away from the museum and both academies. </p><p> </p><p>"Diego, we need to go!" Luther yelled among the ruckus. "Vanya, cover for us!"</p><p> </p><p>Determined, Vanya nodded.</p><p> </p><p>"What about... What about the people inside?" Klaus weak voice.</p><p> </p><p>The genuine concern in Klaus' voice was so jarring to Eight that he couldn't help but swing his head towards his general direction.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Who worries about others in this situation?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Luther looked extremely guilty and the way he looked back at the destroyed museum spoke volumes about how much he would like to help. "We...we can't. We need to go, this is our only chance."</p><p> </p><p>Vanya and Diego nodded but their gazes still flickered to Eight. </p><p> </p><p><br/>"Do you really think we'll let you go just like that?!" Two yelled.</p><p> </p><p>Eight needed to play damage control. What he did, no matter the reason, was too reckless and he should play it safe now. Besides, the Umbrella Academy was actually a bit amusing and since the opportunity of escape had presented itself, Eight didn't mind keeping them alive a while longer.</p><p> </p><p>"Dude, focus your ass on saving the people inside the museum, not us!" Diego yelled just as enraged.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the Sparrow Academy looked unsure of what to do. One keeps on looking back at the museum while the others are uncertainly raising their fists and readying to fight once again.</p><p> </p><p>The Umbrella Academy was inching backwards, while the Sparrow Academy follows just as reluctantly.</p><p> </p><p>"What the hell's wrong with all of you?!" Eight yelled at the latter. Really, Eight deserves an award for his acting skills, he's getting too good at this.</p><p> </p><p>The scream had shocked both academies and Eight rolled his eyes. "If you don't want to save our family, I will."</p><p> </p><p>He didn't miss the painful flinch that he inflicted upon the Umbrella Academy from those words alone. He needs to investigate them, as well.</p><p> </p><p>To help his case, bystanders were also screaming for the Sparrow Academy to hurry up and save the people who can still probably be saved.</p><p> </p><p>One gazed at Eight and Eight stared at him with disappointment and frustration, emotions that he knows an actual concerned family member will show.</p><p> </p><p>Eight had spent time observing them and taking note of their weakness which was why he knew that he had won even before One even nodded at him. He teleported away knowing full well that the rest of the Sparrow Academy would follow. </p><p> </p><p>Two is too focused on finishing the mission first and worrying about others second, but she always follows One. Four is emotional but he's smart and knows better than to fight alone. One is the kindest of them all, though probably the most jaded. He was good at hiding his kindness with barbed words which is why Six's kindness had stood out more. However, give him an adequate opportunity to save people rather than fight and he'd most definitely take it.</p><p> </p><p>Open books, Eight would say. But he'd give them the benefit of the doubt that they could prove him wrong.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The rescue attempt had been messy and organized at the same time. One was removing large pieces of concrete with his tentacles like they're paper mâché. Two was directing her birds so that they could find survivors more easily from a bird's eye view. Four was placing barriers on strategic spaces to stop the building from further caving in on itself. It was a slow, careful process in which a mistake could cost them a few lives.</p><p> </p><p>They had found Six first, thanks to the fact that she had just recently entered the museum. Eight had teleported her straight to the hospital before anyone could even say a word. She was bleeding in the head and promptly vomited when they landed on the hospital floor. He would have teleported her to the Academy but it was much too far and Eight had less stamina than he would like to admit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She can't heal herself, take note of that.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eight awkwardly rubbed circles on her back, holding her so that she won't fall to her own vomit and making sure that she didn't shake her head because concussion's a bitch and a half. He promptly handed her over to the hospital employees, afterwards. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Eight feels tired.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When he returned to the destroyed museum, Eight was then relegated the duty to instantly teleport fatally injured people straight to the nearest hospital.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Was he a transportation vessel now?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless, he took the task without complaint. He was dedicated in appearing as someone who was genuinely concerned about saving those people he truthfully couldn't care about. </p><p> </p><p>The things he did to play this game. Someone ought to reward him for his dedication... Nah, forget it, he can reward himself.</p><p> </p><p>During the hubbub, Eight also took the liberty of wiping his prints away from the detonator and crushing it a little bit with his foot on the dusty ground next to the dead corpse of one of the hostage takers. </p><p> </p><p>When you're allowed to go around the crime scene, it was almost too easy to mess with it. This should buy him time.</p><p> </p><p>As for the Umbrella Academy, the police and some of Two's birds had been used to try and follow them as they escape, but they never did succeed. Vanya had flown with Diego while Luther had jumped like a super powered frog. Eight almost regretted leaving before seeing that, it sounded funny and maybe he could even get a laugh out of it.</p><p> </p><p>When was the last time Eight had laughed? He couldn't remember.</p><p> </p><p>Does he even want to laugh? It sounds tiring.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Eight wants to sleep.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Eight!" The call to his name had snapped him out of his stupor and he looked up at Number Four while munching on energy bars. The teleportation trips with two people had been fucking draining and he can't even eat properly without people interrupting him.</p><p> </p><p>So what if they're dying? Eight's fucking hungry, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p>"They found Seven."</p><p> </p><p>Eight briefly stopped munching. Game before stomach. Game before gain. </p><p> </p><p>He lets out a barely concealed hopeful whisper. "Really?"</p><p> </p><p>Four nodded solemnly but he looked upset. Eight could giggle at the expression if he wasn't feeling so exhausted and if he wasn't in the middle of playing a role. <em>So, they didn't find Seven in a good shape. Good.</em></p><p> </p><p>He carefully furrowed his eyebrows. "Can he still be fixed?"</p><p> </p><p>"He was probably in close quarters with the bomb when it exploded, but we're still holding out hope that he could be fixed." Four said before shrugging. "I just figured that you'd like to know."</p><p> </p><p>Eight softens his face and quietly spoke. "I do. Thank you."</p><p> </p><p>Four blinked owlishly at him but Eight just looked away pretending to be busy while biting on his food. In the corner of his eyes, he could see Four fighting back a smile.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost too easy to make the Sparrow Academy believe that Eight cares for them. But who could blame them? When all is said and done they are all affection-starved, dysfunctional adults thanks to Reginald's way of upbringing. </p><p> </p><p>They hated Eight and felt inadequate because of him, but at the same time they soak up any acknowledgement that Eight had sparingly given them like dry sponge.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling inadequate towards him is just another way of saying that they looked up to him. Eight would laugh if he could remember how. It was almost pathetic how weak they are towards kindness.</p><p> </p><p>(Eight shook his head at the phantom feeling of arms encircling him, holding him like he's something precious, something that could be loved.)</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It took the whole day to find all the people unfortunate enough to be buried under the museum.</p><p> </p><p>Eight had learned that he liked it better when he does the killing himself, using a bomb was actually a bit boring and was too much of a mess to clean up. </p><p> </p><p>Fucking exhausting. </p><p> </p><p>Or maybe that's just Eight? He was feeling a bit off since he detonated the bomb. He expected to feel more joy from this, from the pain that the Sparrow Academy is showing due to the injuries that they had sustained and the casualty that they had experienced. He did feel enthralled, but the feeling was subdued.</p><p> </p><p>He felt the same sensation for the similar events, but everything felt a little bit incomplete. A little bit... <em>less.</em> </p><p> </p><p>He was sure that during the fight his mind was running and dripping all over the place but now its strangely quiet and focused but at the same time, distant. He didn't feel right.</p><p> </p><p>He knows what he's doing and why he's doing it. But there's something creeping up on him, like shadows of something unseen, gripping at him and reminding him:</p><p> </p><p>This is just something. It won't last. Soon enough, he'd grow bored and nothing will matter again.</p><p> </p><p>He's nothing now. He was gripping at anything to keep him grounded but he's slowly losing the motivation to keep his feet on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>He's slipping. He's dying. He didn't know why. He's losing even the desire to know why.</p><p> </p><p>Eight ignores the thought.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn't matter.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Nothing matters.</strong> </p><p> </p><p>He just needs to enjoy the little pleasant things in life, even if it came from the wrong source. He needs to enjoy it for as much as he can before he grows bored of it.</p><p> </p><p>The actual body count was a bit lower than Eight had anticipated but still significant in number. It was probably due to the fact that most of the hostages were in the middle of leaving when it happened and because of the Sparrow Academy's help.</p><p> </p><p>12 persons were injured and 8 were found dead. 4 more people are still in critical condition in the hospital, including Five.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Oh</em>, and Three's dead. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight only had a short time to figure out how to fake tears for his funeral. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>how am i doing chapters for 8 days in a row?</p><p>I'm being fed by your comments, that's how. And the angst, that too.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Que Será, Será</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The third apocalypse is near.<br/>But this time, Five isn't there to stop it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There would be no incest in here, okay. Everything is strictly platonic and familial.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was quiet, the kind of quiet you'd expect in a funeral. Somber, debilitating and grief-filled quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Luther did feel like he was on a funeral. He did feel like he had lost someone. Why was the Umbrella Academy always losing someone?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wasn't Ben enough? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>How could things go so wrong in such a few days?</p><p> </p><p>They were feeling confident, too. They just needed to rumor the Sparrow Academy, find Five, use the briefcase and leave. <em>That's it.</em> They could go home to the right 2019 and get to meet their niece. </p><p> </p><p>And maybe, <em>finally,</em> they could live together as a family who gets into arguments but ultimately still get along. They were so close to a semblance of a happy ending. They were so blinded at the promise of happiness that they neglected to properly understand what it means for Five to wear the Sparrow Academy uniform when they first saw him.</p><p> </p><p>They lost Five, again. And this time, Luther thinks that no amount of time would be enough to get him back if they just wait. </p><p> </p><p>"Luther, can you please take Klaus to the couch?" Allison spoke in a quiet tone. She and Klaus were the ones who were most affected by what happened. Five had attacked them without hesitation like they meant nothing to him anymore and they were still reeling from the sting of betrayal, from the close brush to death.</p><p> </p><p>All of them were just recently realizing that Five had cared for them, they were all just recently crossing the bridge of a 45-year gap towards their long-lost brother. Five wasn't perfect, he was arrogant, prickly, secretive and prone to insults but he was also terrifyingly genuine when it comes to them. He was always trying to be better, was open to listening to Luther's and Klaus' advice and was applying it like he truly believed that they were right. </p><p> </p><p>And in this 2019, he had pushed himself to the brink of death to give them a second chance at life.</p><p> </p><p>And now he was the one who wanted them dead. It was a bitter pill to swallow and everyone was stumped on what to do as they lick their wounds at a warehouse that they happened to find.</p><p> </p><p>They were lucky that Five had just knocked Allison out. If it was poison on that needle, she wouldn't have made it. Klaus' leg on the other hand, didn't seem like it will heal anytime soon and that... that's a problem.</p><p> </p><p>They don't have Five now. When, <em>not if</em>, the Sparrow Academy finds them again, Luther doubts that another bomb will go off and give them the opportunity for an escape.</p><p> </p><p>He carefully lifted Klaus who was uncharacteristically silent since the museum and placed him in the sofa. Allison was quick to take a place next to him, pulling him to lean on her.</p><p> </p><p>"W-what are we supposed to do now?" Vanya spoke up and she looked at Luther from her place perched in a chair. </p><p> </p><p>"Who f-fucking k-k-nows?!" Diego threw the knife and it embedded itself deep on the wooden frame. </p><p> </p><p>They all uncertainly looked at the briefcase. It was an unspoken option: They could leave now and go home. No Sparrow Academy. No living Dad to mess with their lives. No more running for their lives and stealing to get their bare necessities. No more stuck in the wrong timeline.</p><p> </p><p>No Five.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, it wasn't an option after all.</p><p> </p><p><br/>"We have to get Five back," Allison spoke up, her voice regaining strength.</p><p> </p><p>"How do we do that? They have tampered with his memory! We have no idea what that dickhead had gotten in him!" Diego yelled and Allison simply raised an eyebrow at him.</p><p> </p><p>Diego stomped his feet angrily before letting another knife rip in the air and hit a random spot in the room. </p><p> </p><p>"Aren't you scared of him?" Klaus quietly said. His words had dropped the temperature in the room for a significant amount.</p><p> </p><p>Even Diego was struck speechless from those words.</p><p> </p><p>"You don't want to save him anymore?" Vanya asked but there's also a barely concealed anger in her tone. "He's our brother!"</p><p> </p><p>Klaus gritted his teeth and raised his voice. "I know he is! Don't make it sound like I don't love him like you do! I trust Five with my life!"</p><p> </p><p>"So, what's wrong?" Diego seemed like he was calming down now that other people was rising in temper for him.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus looked down at his injured leg. "I trust Five with my life. But... that wasn't Five. That wasn't our brother."</p><p> </p><p>Klaus took a deep breath and met their eyes. "We can talk the talk but in the end, all of us know how dangerous he is. One wrong move and he'd snap our neck like twigs, and we'll lose another sibling just as fast. If we're careless with him, Fivey would end up committing an act that he would never forgive himself for."</p><p> </p><p>Klaus raised his hand, but he didn't look like he was doing it to show defeat. "I'm not saying that we shouldn't save him. I'm just saying that we shouldn't be careless in approaching him." His tone dissolves into a bitter cadence. "I don't want to lose another sibling." </p><p> </p><p>Nobody had spoken for a full minute as they absorb what Klaus had said. Luther was almost surprised at Klaus. Ever since 1963 the man had grown more and more confident of himself. His experience with overcoming his greatest fear in the Hotel Oblivion had only strengthened him more. </p><p> </p><p>In fact, they all have changed since going through the Hotel and the 1960's.</p><p> </p><p>Allison had fully stopped herself from fearing her powers, utilizing it when needed without hesitation but never letting the power get in her head.</p><p> </p><p>Diego had grown more powerful in a fight and more sensitive to others, something that he was also developing since 1963. </p><p> </p><p>Vanya, their sweet sister had grown assertive over time. She didn't fear showing her emotions anymore and had grown much more attuned to her powers. </p><p> </p><p>Luther himself had changed too. He had stopped fearing taking charge when he had to but he was always careful to listen to what others had to say. He learned to look at the bigger picture, of things that wasn't in his immediate perspective. </p><p> </p><p>They had all changed for the better. When all things are said and done, the Hotel may have done them some good.</p><p> </p><p>But Luther never wants to go back to it. Ever. He'd much rather go to therapy, he was sure he could obtain the same results in there in a more peaceful manner.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya smiled sadly. "You're right. I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Klaus."</p><p> </p><p>"You're forgiven my dear sister," Klaus grinned and the tension in the room finally dissipated. </p><p> </p><p>"That's good and all but we still ha-"</p><p>Whatever Diego was trying to say was lost to the wind, as every single one of them tensed at the sound of a briefcase activating.</p><p> </p><p>Diego pulled out a knife, Allison quickly pushed herself in front of Klaus, Vanya's irises are already turning white and Luther was clutching the table ready to chuck it at the possible threat.</p><p> </p><p>A small man in a suit while carrying a suitcase appeared together with a thin woman. Everyone except for Luther and Vanya relaxed. </p><p> </p><p>"Herb," Diego called amicably and exchanged a weird handshake with the man. Luther releases the table and blinked at Vanya who shrugged her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>Because no one is volunteering the information, Luther asked. "Who?" </p><p> </p><p>Diego promptly introduced Herb and Dot to Vanya and Luther. </p><p> </p><p>"Anyway, why are you here, Herb? Need something from us? Or are you here to scold us about the timeline?" Diego was quick to ask right after he finished the introduction. He looked deceptively relaxed, but Luther could see that there was tension in the way he held himself.</p><p> </p><p>Herb and Dot exchanged hesitant looks before looking at them. "You might want to sit down for this. I have information for all of you."</p><p> </p><p>The members of Team Zero exchanged glances, already not liking what they're seeing and hearing but nevertheless, they took their seat. </p><p> </p><p>Herb nervously played with his briefcase. "The third apocalypse is here."</p><p> </p><p>Chaos ensued.</p><p> </p><p>"Fucking-"</p><p> </p><p>"Apocalypse! Of course, there's another apocalypse!"</p><p> </p><p>"-fucking-"</p><p> </p><p>"You've gotta be kidding me."</p><p> </p><p>"-Fuck!"</p><p> </p><p>"Can the world stop dying for once?"</p><p> </p><p>Herb patiently waited for them to release their pent-up frustration. </p><p> </p><p>It took them quite a while to calm down from that. Luther felt they were fully entitled for that time.</p><p> </p><p>Allison, ever the responsible one, was the fastest to regain her bearings. "What's the cause? Is it Vanya? Sorry Vanya."</p><p> </p><p>Vanya shook her head. "None taken, I was actually wondering about it myself."</p><p> </p><p>"No," Herb answered. Luther didn't know if that signaled a good thing or a bad thing. Herb was sweating quite profusely and was dabbing a handkerchief at his face. "Five's the bomb."</p><p> </p><p>Luther made a choked sound and once again, everyone clamored to be heard.</p><p> </p><p>"Shit, Five?"</p><p> </p><p>"No way. No fucking way."</p><p> </p><p>"When? Why?"</p><p> </p><p>"Five would never do that!"</p><p> </p><p>"I'll explain. I'll explain it all. Please calm down." Herb said.</p><p> </p><p>They did calm down, <em>eventually.</em></p><p> </p><p>Once he was sure that he could be heard, Herb continues his speech. "I'll spare you the mathematical and technical details that we had done to figure out it was Five. What you need to know, is that he'd end up time travelling and indiscriminately killing important people in history that would eventually cause the apocalypse. The apocalypse can be anything right now. There were too many possibilities and too many combinations of the wrong thing being done to the timeline b-because Five...Five was too erratic and random for the system."</p><p> </p><p>Luther can only feel disbelief at this point. Everyone was quiet, verging on distrustful against Herb and everything that he is saying.</p><p> </p><p>If there is one thing that they know about Five, it was the fact that he wanted to stop the apocalypse. Him being the cause this time was so left field of the person that they know. </p><p> </p><p>He was always screaming and drawling about saving the world, and would they hurry the fuck up and get their sideshow acts together so they could actually get around to actually doing it?</p><p> </p><p>"How can we know that we can trust you?" Klaus asked, disbelief and wariness were coloring his face.</p><p> </p><p>Herb looked at Allison. Sensing it for the permission that it is, Allison did not hesitate to speak. "I heard a rumor that you cannot lie from us."</p><p> </p><p>"Everything that I have said is true," Herb confirmed and Luther felt his heart dropping to his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>This couldn't be happening to them. <em>Not again</em>. </p><p> </p><p>"Why?" Vanya asked in a tone that speaks of how much she was afraid of the answer. "Why would he kill them? You made it sound as if he, as if he was doing it all on a crazy whim. No sane person will do that."</p><p> </p><p>Herb and Dot, once again exchanged glances at each other. Luther can see Diego growing irritated. Dot shook his head but Herb just looked resigned. He returned his gaze to them, his expression resembling someone walking to the guillotine for his execution.</p><p> </p><p>"Because of us. W-we-" </p><p> </p><p>Luther can feel his hackles rising from the extremely guilty look that Herb was showing to them. What did they do?</p><p> </p><p>"We experimented on him."</p><p> </p><p>Luther had thought that this day could not get any worse. But it did. <em>It did</em>. It was steadily getting worse somehow.</p><p> </p><p>"We gave him the DNA of every single serial killer across all of time. It gave him... g-gave him murderous instincts and compulsions. Thanks to that, his impulse control is permanently compromised."</p><p> </p><p>The building shook and no one made an effort to stop Diego as he decked Herb on the face. Luther had only seen him this livid with anger once, it was when Patch had died.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya, on the other hand, was gripping her clothes like a lifeline, angry tears springing from her face as she tries to control her power from running amok.</p><p> </p><p>"How FUCKING DARE YOU?!" Diego screamed and made a move to approach Herb but Dot stepped in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>She looked panicked and scared, trembling with so much force that it vibrates her whole body. Luther can't find it in himself to pity her.</p><p> </p><p>"W-we couldn't have d-done anythi-thing. The higher-up’s words were law in the Commission. P-please you have to listen to us."</p><p> </p><p>"Did you listen to him?" Luther wouldn't believe that the cold voice was from Klaus if he wasn't watching him speak. "When he was begging you to stop, did you listen to him?"</p><p> </p><p>Allison made a garbled sound which was a cross between a growl of anger and a choke of a sob.</p><p> </p><p>Luther remembered the old man Five and tried to imagine him being played by scientists like he's a toy. </p><p> </p><p>The spike of anger was enough for him to hit the table with a loud crash. It crumpled like paper in the face of his fury.</p><p> </p><p>Why didn't he tell us? Why was the world so hell-bent on giving Five bad cards in life like a game of bad poker?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Geeze, Luther, grow up."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>If anyone else deserved to destroy the world, it’s probably Five.</p><p> </p><p>And yet Five still wanted to save the world? Why?</p><p> </p><p>"We should have killed all of you," Diego angrily declared, already pulling out a knife. Luther needed to intervene.</p><p> </p><p>"Diego, wait."</p><p> </p><p>Diego looked at him with furious eyes which was also shining with unshed tears. </p><p> </p><p>"I know you're upset but this isn't the answer. The threat of the apocalypse is still here and we need all the help that we can get. You could beat him up later, I promise." Luther spoke in a measured tone.</p><p> </p><p>Herb gingerly sat up while massaging his jaw that was rapidly bruising. He didn't look angry, just silently resigned. They didn't quite expect him to grovel at them, though.</p><p> </p><p>"I AM sorry for everything that we had ever done to your brother... but everyone in the Commission was convinced that killing him was the only choice for salvation, and<em> I know</em> that you don't want that." Herb raised his head and looked at them, he seemed desperate to show them that he was being genuine. "I wanted to give you the option of what to do, I owe all of you that, I owe it to Number Five. If you want to save him, then I would never approve the kill order. But please, we need to save the timeline that your brother had worked his entire lifetime to create."</p><p> </p><p>Diego gnashed his teeth, his knuckles had turned white from the death grip that he had on his knife. None of the Umbrella Academy looked happy, but they knew that Herb was right.</p><p> </p><p>They couldn't focus on their anger at the Commission now because for better or worse, they were their only allies.</p><p> </p><p>"What options?" Allison asked. Her rumor was still in effect, which is why she knew that Herb was being truthful to his words. It doesn't mean that she forgave him but it was enough for her cooperate with him for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>"We could try and send assassins to kill him or we could use your help to stop him." Herb said while wiping at the sweat at his forehead. "Or you know...we could all watch the world crash with a box of popcorn, we're actually proud of our recipe of-"</p><p> </p><p>"You want us to kill Five?!" Diego sounded incredulous and insulted.</p><p> </p><p>"N-no," Herb hurriedly replied. "I want you to stop him."</p><p> </p><p>"We just need Allison to rumor him into remembering right? We can do it." Vanya hopefully added. </p><p> </p><p>"Uhmm excuse me? Sexy trash with a broken leg here?"</p><p> </p><p>Allison shook her head. "Klaus is right. Memory or not, Five's not the kind of person to just stand by while I rumor him. One failure and I'll be permanently marked as an enemy. All of us will."</p><p> </p><p>"If we live long enough to survive him," Diego muttered to himself.</p><p> </p><p>Luther couldn't help but nod at what Diego had said. "And if he decides to flee in another timeline, it might as well be over. We can't possibly chase someone who can travel time and space that fast. We can't afford to lose him here."</p><p> </p><p>Diego glared at Luther which he wasn't expecting. <em>What did he say wrong?</em> "If that's your subtle way of telling me that we have no choice but to kill him now, I'll kill you."</p><p> </p><p>"Its not!" Luther sputtered, appropriately offended. "When did I say that?"</p><p> </p><p>Herb shook his head. "Rumoring him into remembering won't work. Sir Reginald Hargreeves had injected him with a serum that affects him till this moment. Even if he remembers, he'll forget you just as fast."</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck Dad," They all said in unison.</p><p> </p><p>"Can't we reason with him?" Vanya added. "Five's logical, he won't refute something like this if we give him evidence."</p><p> </p><p>"I-I'm afraid it isn't that easy. DNA and the lack of impulse control, remember? He probably won't even care."</p><p> </p><p>Oh they remember, alright. There's no way they'd forget about that. A grudge is building and none of them were willing to temper it.</p><p> </p><p>"Why is everything so unnecessarily complicated?" Klaus whined to no one in particular.</p><p> </p><p>Honestly? Luther felt like whining too. The more they talk, the more the situation felt hopeless to him.</p><p> </p><p>Allison looked at Herb with an impatient and inquisitive gaze. "You must be here talking to us for a reason, you must have the solution and it involves us. Spill it, already!"</p><p> </p><p>Herb stood up from his position on the floor, wearing the same resolute face that he had a prior moment ago.</p><p> </p><p>"It’s simple. There's a reason Five had wanted to save the world, a reason why the DNA had never fully controlled him. We just need to remind him of that. Make him feel it again."</p><p> </p><p>Team Zero shared a look at each other before Diego spoke up.</p><p><br/>"I don't know, man. Are we supposed to show him the seven wonders of the world or something?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Five...Reason... make him feel it again... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They had it backwards...they misarranged his priority...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shit, was Herb...? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Luther couldn't believe where his mind was taking him.</p><p><br/> <br/>"Y-you... Herb are you serious? Is that... no way."</p><p> </p><p>Despite Luther's scattered phrasing, Herb seemed to have understood him just as well. He looked solemn as he nodded at Luther.</p><p> </p><p>"As a heart attack. We ran the logistics and came to this next best solution other than assassination."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It was never about the world, was it, Five?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Impatient, Klaus tried to rush the conversation. "What? What is it? What's this magical solution that could stop our little murder boy from destroying the world?"</p><p> </p><p>"Shit, don't tell me..." It looked like Diego was the next one to realize where Herb was going with this conversation.</p><p> </p><p>"Forget about regaining his memory back, <em>just for now</em>." Herb said which had Allison blinking.</p><p> </p><p>"How is that going to help?! He won't help us if he doesn't .. remem..ber..." Allison trailed off, blinking more rapidly.</p><p><br/>Meanwhile, Vanya crumpled further to her seat from the shock.  "You're telling me..."</p><p><br/>It made sense. It shouldn't make sense, but it does. It was the best way to stop Five from destroying the world despite not being able to recover his memory. But it was risky and time-consuming, he could see why the rest of the Commission had felt safer with the murder option.</p><p> </p><p>Luther still needed to hear it from Herb, though. He didn't know if he wanted to be proven right or wrong with his conclusion. </p><p> </p><p>Herb softly and knowingly smiled at them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Get Number Eight to fall in love with you. <em>Hard."</em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No incest here, just platonic love (solemn)</p><p>Just combined family fluff and angst :D </p><p>But really, thank you for all the support. I never expected my first story to be filled with such kind readers, I don't think I deserve it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. If I'm allowed to choose, I'd wear red to the funeral</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eight didn't know grief nor pain<br/>He didn't know love, only hate<br/>Five does</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is extremely gory (for my standards anyway, so be warned.) If it makes you uncomfortable, please skip when you see the second line break and continue on the third line starting from: six reached out for eight...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finding that Three was dead was certainly effective in shutting up the Sparrow Academy. The atmosphere around the mansion had grown significantly heavier and every talk ends up in either crying, punching, angry leaving or an awkward silence. </p><p> </p><p>Was it that much of a big deal? Everyone dies eventually anyway, what was so different now? The Academy members have killed people before, they should have known that lesson better than anyone.</p><p> </p><p>While Eight can fake emotions, even he finds them baffling sometimes. Why waste your time on sadness when you could have done something more productive like finding out who detonated the bomb or training more so that it could never happen again?</p><p> </p><p>Why waste time on grief when you could be better? </p><p> </p><p>He feels like him and Reginald were on the same page on that but even the old man had granted two days of break in respect for the dead.  Eight didn't understand but he knows enough to stay quiet through it all.</p><p> </p><p>If you don't want to lose anyone simply push everyone off. It wasn't that hard. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Idiots.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>But he'll play along, he'll copy their reactions for a bit and add his own flavor. It would be remiss of him to be insensitive when he's playing the role of the 'secretly caring brother pretending to be a prick'.</p><p> </p><p>He decided to forgo the crying, Eight was an amnesiac and it would be weird of him to cry when he had nothing to cry for. He barely even remembered Three, honestly he wasn't that much of a loss if you asked Eight. </p><p> </p><p>The crying that he heard while he passed the rooms of his siblings says otherwise. But who cares? Definitely not him.</p><p> </p><p>Never <em>him.</em></p><p> </p><p>But he could pretend that he does. He kept himself up purposefully at night, playing with equations in his desk so that it would look like he's distracting himself.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, that's exactly what he's doing right now before Reginald had rudely interrupted him. He had summoned him to his office again and Eight changed to his uniform while knowingly letting it look a bit disheveled. </p><p> </p><p>Subtlety is actually very instrumental to deception, letting people draw their own conclusion from what they thought was a logical hypothesis that only they have observed will diminish the chances of them questioning it. </p><p> </p><p>He waited a few seconds while standing outside the office, pretending to fix his tie and hair before finally knocking. </p><p> </p><p>"Come in."</p><p> </p><p>Eight entered in a brisk stride, letting some of his genuine irritation drip. "What do you want?"</p><p> </p><p>Reginald did not even raise a single eyebrow at the rudeness. </p><p>"I needed information but most of your siblings are too emotionally compromised to hold an intelligent conversation with," Reginald simply answered.</p><p> </p><p>Eight scowled, taking a seat before Reginald could even order him to. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Or you want to gauge what I think of the Umbrella Academy.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Or both.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Whatever it is, Eight's willing to play along. He WAS getting bored of pretending to be grieving. The process was too repetitive for his tastes and a little distraction is not unwelcome.</p><p> </p><p>"What have you noticed about the Umbrella Academy members?" Reginald started and Eight could almost imagine a chessboard in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald's white this time. That's fine, Eight was more particular with black anyway.</p><p> </p><p>It was quite a large scoped question. Reginald wanted him to offer everything that he has with a single question, a power move. </p><p> </p><p>"They're not much," Eight grinned, knowingly giving an answer that he knew was useless. <em>Try again, ask nicer, maybe I'll give you something.</em></p><p> </p><p>It was an attack to Reginald's authority. Eight may be playing himself as a loyal member of the Academy but it didn't mean that he'll make it easy for them. </p><p> </p><p>It didn't take Reginald a second to respond. "I haven't expected you to be so incompetent that you've only noticed that much about them, frankly I may have overestimated you."</p><p> </p><p>So instead of showing humility, he chose to insult Eight's capability. Stubborn old man.</p><p> </p><p>Eight didn't rise to the bait and shrugged impassively. "Why do you want to know?"</p><p> </p><p>Eight was well aware that he's disadvantaged when it comes to information. The lack of memory, for one, is quite a pain in the ass.  If Reginald was taking his precious time asking this of Eight rather than his Number One, then he wanted Eight's opinion specifically.</p><p> </p><p>Eight's opinion was a bargaining chip now and he was planning to milk it for all that its worth.</p><p> </p><p>"They're enemies of the Sparrow Academy and a fresh perspective of them won't hurt." A smart and well-distanced answer but nothing valuable.</p><p> </p><p>"I doubt that I have something that you don't already know." A passive-aggressive refusal.</p><p> </p><p>"I will be the one to judge that." </p><p> </p><p>The more Reginald refuses to answer, the stronger it made Eight's desire to know. </p><p> </p><p>"If you only want a fresh perspective, then ask me later. Three's dead and the Umbrella Academy is the last thing on my mind." Eight stands up with a glare to his Dad. If he's not planning to answer, then Eight would rather leave.</p><p> </p><p>His bargaining chip was only bound to get more valuable in time. He had nothing to lose with leaving now.</p><p> </p><p>"Sit back Number Eight!" Reginald ordered and Eight didn't even spare him a glance.</p><p> </p><p>"No."</p><p> </p><p>He slammed the door shut. </p><p> </p><p>That was fun. He was now growing an appreciation for dramatic exits.</p><p> </p><p>Eight felt like he could probably get away with trying to sleep now. He could blame his apparent exhaustion on Reginald for being well, Reginald.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Everything was quiet except for the pitter-patter of rain and the enraged cry that reverberated in his brain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It sounded like him. It felt like him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everything's cold and wet, and the raindrops had washed even the metallic smell of blood in the air.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looked up at the Sparrow Academy who was staring at him without an inch of remorse. There was something sadistic with the way they looked at him, as if watching him break down was an entertaining show.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Five tightly clutched his brother's decapitated head like a lifeline. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Despite the loud sound of rain hitting the asphalt, it was drowned out by the furious pounding of his heart, the ringing of anger and grief in his ears. Its loud. Loud. Loud. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I will kill every, single, fucking one of you!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>With a jolt, Eight woke up with a freezing head and his blood boiling to an unprecedented heat. He barely muffled the strangled, animalistic growl that vibrated in his throat. He was seeing red. Everything was red and in shambles, while dust-like substance was falling from the ceiling. </p><p> </p><p>He struggled to take the next breath, he was gripping the bed sheets as if he wants to rip it apart, he was slipping, he was furious, he didn't know why.</p><p> </p><p>What did he dream about?</p><p> </p><p>Cold. <strong>Hot.</strong> <em>Hurts.</em></p><p> </p><p>What did he see?</p><p> </p><p>With a jolt, Eight vomited on the side of the bed. He felt like his head was splitting apart from the sensation of heat and cold. He was boiling. He was <em>freezing</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Everything was red. Everything was rotten. Everything was destroyed. Everything was nothing.</p><p> </p><p>It was slipping, the memory of the nightmare was slipping away from his pale, trembling, and small hands. He vomited again.</p><p> </p><p>Cold. <strong>Hot.</strong> <em>Hurts.</em></p><p> </p><p>His teeth audibly chattered and Eight started scratching at his skin. Nothing felt right and ash is still falling around him. </p><p> </p><p>He can hear the crash of glass breaking, the thuds of bodies hitting the ground, the crackle of flames, the boom of a bomb, the electrifying sound of a laser slicing bodies apart, birds squawking, and someone was crying. </p><p> </p><p>And just as suddenly, everything was blank again. </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, Eight was blinking at his undamaged room. It disoriented him. He couldn't remember waking up. He couldn't remember if something woke him up. What was he doing again?</p><p> </p><p>The smell of vomit was still there, Eight blinked at himself. Tremors are still running through his body but his mind was serenely quiet and cold.</p><p> </p><p>He vaguely heard the door slowly opening, a worried female voice calling his name. "Eight? You okay? Everyone is already waiting outside"</p><p> </p><p>Eight slowly looked at Six. She was wearing the black variation of their uniform like they were instructed to do. She hurriedly covered her nose the moment she saw the puddle of vomit on the ground. It was quite a sight, Eight wouldn’t blame her if she fled now.</p><p> </p><p>She slowly approached Eight the way she would a wounded wild animal. </p><p> </p><p>"Here, let me help." She kindly placed her hand on Eight's shoulder, her voice soothing and quiet.</p><p> </p><p>Eight had no idea what triggered it. But it hit him abruptly and silently, he was powerless to stop it.</p><p><br/>Without warning, without any indication that it was happening, Eight heard his mind shatter and everything went red.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><br/>Eight's consciousness returned to his body like the trickle of a bad faucet. It trickles in pathetic small drops, slow and languid.</p><p> </p><p>He was slowly becoming aware of the different sensations of his surroundings.</p><p> </p><p>He was in the mansion... in his room, probably. Yeah he was, he's still in bed. The room smelled like vomit and blood. The bed felt wet. Someone was chuckling darkly to himself. <em>Oh, was that him?</em> Oh yeah, Eight was chuckling to himself. </p><p> </p><p>The bed was warm, and sticky, and red. Eight was wet too. His hands felt tired. <em>Why?</em> Eight stopped chuckling, that felt <em>weird.</em> He ran his hand on rapidly cooling flesh. </p><p> </p><p>Flesh?</p><p> </p><p>Eight looked down.</p><p> </p><p>An eyeball rolled away from him.</p><p> </p><p>He was in the middle of meticulously dismantling Six's body... in his bed...with his bare hands and a pen. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn't see properly from all the blood and organs scattered around the bed, but he was sure that her neck was broken. When did he do that? A loud squelch filled the room. </p><p> </p><p>Oh. so that's why his bed was red...</p><p> </p><p>This is bad...</p><p> </p><p>Eight chuckled to himself. </p><p> </p><p>He can't hide this one.</p><p> </p><p>He could hear someone from below yelling at them to hurry up and come down. </p><p> </p><p>Eight instinctively reversed time.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Six reached out for Eight but Eight blinked away. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine. I'll clean up," Eight leaned on the wall away from Six. He could barely conceal the blood lust that was still pounding on his veins nor the exhaustion that washed over him from the use of his powers. His hands itch for the pen in his desk. "Go away."</p><p> </p><p>There's a flash of disappointment that flickered on her eyes before she slowly nodded and left.</p><p> </p><p>Eight quickly readied himself for the funeral and mopped the vomit from his floor. He was last to arrive in the courtyard where he presumed the funeral was taking place. He walked quietly towards his designated location and no one made a sound or even acknowledged his less than stellar attendance.</p><p> </p><p>Five was good as new, thanks to Six's healing while the weird cube was still in the middle of repair. The rest of the Sparrow Academy was somberly looking at the coffin in front of them. </p><p> </p><p>Reginald gave a speech about being the good guys, stopping the bad guys, and <em>bla bla bla bla bla bla.</em></p><p> </p><p>Eight focused on stopping himself from laughing maniacally at them all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finals are coming and I will have to stop the daily updates. Sorry guys.</p><p>I'll be back after it though :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Bitter Coffee and a Wake-Up Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Five and Allison drinks coffee together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The funeral ended without further distractions. Everyone headed straight back to their rooms like collective, mindless puppets, head hung low and feet barely raising from the ground.</p><p> </p><p>Eight, on the other hand, was grappling with his self-control the whole way back. Every single part of him hungers for some excitement, he hates the feeling of nothing in his veins and the lack of anything to do had rendered him completely at the mercy of his own thoughts. He couldn't stop thinking about the warmth of Six's blood and he wants to do it again. And again. And again.</p><p> </p><p>A shudder travelled through his whole body.</p><p> </p><p>He had never blacked out like that before and he was ready to admit that it was actually a bit terrifying. It was proof that whatever this feeling is, Eight can no longer afford to ignore it. He locked the door to his room and actively tried to divert his attention to his math computations.</p><p> </p><p>He had to do something. He had to do something before his efforts all go down the drain because Eight couldn't control himself. But he's hungry. He's fucking hungry for violence and the sweet adrenaline rush that comes with it. </p><p> </p><p><em>No,</em> not yet. He can't kill them yet. It was much too soon and he needs to wait for the Sparrow Academy to pull themselves together and then and only then, can he pull the rug underneath their feet. He could wrangle with his desires for a while longer.</p><p> </p><p>Eight believes that he could.</p><p> </p><p>Patience. He just needed patience. A fuck ton of it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>When the next morning came, Eight was already waving the metaphorical white flag. The whole night was spent fantasizing and writhing below his blankets for hours before finally getting to sleep. </p><p> </p><p>To make matters worse, when he regained consciousness, he found himself in the middle of the hallway between all the Sparrow Academy's rooms, clutching the same pen that he used on Six. He could not recall waking up nor leaving his room, and Eight finally realized that he may have been underestimating his own impulses. </p><p> </p><p>Eight needs to kill someone. Every single cell in his body demands it and Eight is finally willing to obey once again.</p><p> </p><p>He wants a restful sleep and if he can only get it by killing someone, then so be it. It was the long-awaited reward for his dedication, he can have a little treat.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Breakfast was an awkward ordeal. Everyone keeps glancing at Three's chair with the most pathetic kicked look Eight had ever seen. They barely touched their food, opting to play with it using their forks.</p><p> </p><p>As much as Eight liked the sight, he was unfortunately in a hurry. And simply seeing emotional pain was not enough for him today.</p><p> </p><p>Without any warning, he slammed his knife on the dining table. Apprehensive eyes darted towards Eight except for Reginald who continued to eat his meal as if hearing nothing.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm going out," Eight declared nonchalantly, widening his lips at them. He can almost feel the shock rippling across the room. </p><p> </p><p>Reginald finally looked up from his meal to look at Eight with barely concealed irritation. <em>"Out?</em> You are not allowed to go out. You should spend your time wisely rather than going around town gallivanting like a lost horse."</p><p> </p><p>"Funny," Eight spoke in a tone that clearly says that he finds no humor in this conversation at all. "I wasn't asking for permission."</p><p> </p><p>A few looked at Eight indignantly. Number Two and Five looked furious for his lack of discipline while Four looked almost awed. Meanwhile, Number Six was shaking her head vehemently at Eight as if it would actually dissuade him. Eight rolled his eyes at them and stood up without a word.</p><p> </p><p> "I do not condone this insubordination, Number Eight. Your arrogance is nothing short of despicable. Now sit and apologize for disturbing what should have been a quiet meal before your unruly disruption." Reginald barely raised his voice, but his words still brought a chill in the entire dining area. He truly had a way of punctuating his most hurtful remarks without losing the perfect composure of a gentleman that he was not.</p><p> </p><p>Eight deliberately flinched for a short second before meeting Reginald's gaze with his own determined ones.</p><p> </p><p>"Three's dead." The simple declaration had his sibling flinching as well. "And like what you've said in the funeral, maybe it was all our fault."</p><p> </p><p>Number One clenched his jaw before looking down at his plate.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I need to better myself and my powers. I need to familiarize myself with the city and I can't have you restraining me here in the mansion when my powers are literally NOT for staying put!"</p><p> </p><p>Eight could almost see the gears turning in Reginald's head, turning over his words and shaking it for logical fallacies. Eight could not afford to wait for him to find any kinks in his argument, he needed out but he can't be too defiant. His argument must seem like he was still loyal, just desperate to be better and stubborn enough to bend a few rules from time to time.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not going to wait for one of us to die again before I do something about it." He couldn't resist to take a jab afterwards. "Unlike all of you, moping around is not my cup of joe."</p><p> </p><p>He moved away from the table before smiling widely at them. "I'll be back before sleepy time," he compromised.</p><p> </p><p>Eight languidly waved a hand as his portal swallowed him whole.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He landed in the park just as he planned but the tree that almost smacked him was not part of it.</p><p> </p><p>Eight briefly contemplated arson.</p><p> </p><p>See? This is why he needed to go outside!</p><p> </p><p>But that was not today's goal. He removed his jacket, blazer and tie, and tucked his white undershirt primly afterwards. He carelessly hid the clothing items underneath a nearby bush, before shoving his hands on his pocket. The feeling of the knife (he had stolen it before breakfast) inside it, almost made him shiver in anticipation.</p><p> </p><p>If it were much too soon to kill the Sparrow Academy, he could find some random civilian to play with just to indulge himself.</p><p> </p><p>There was no need to starve himself from what he wants, after all.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A random direction was chosen, and he started walking towards nowhere while contemplating his choices. </p><p> </p><p>A man? A woman? Or maybe a child?</p><p> </p><p>He will choose one and make it last for as long as he could, so maybe he should choose a man after all?</p><p> </p><p>"Five?" </p><p> </p><p>Unwittingly, his body stiffened at the hopeful voice that derailed his thoughts. He turned just in time to see Allison close her mouth hurriedly as if she were surprised even at herself. She was on the other side of the road wearing nondescript clothing in an effort to stay unnoticed.</p><p> </p><p>He could feel his heartbeat accelerating but not in the good, hungry way it gets when he's being violent. It was almost painful. Looking at her was vaguely painful in a way he can't describe nor trace. </p><p> </p><p>He gripped the knife tighter as he glared at Allison from a careful distance. Several emotions had flickered on her eyes which was way too quick for Eight to clearly comprehend. </p><p> </p><p>The stare down lasted approximately 3.68 seconds before she took a deep breath and forcibly relaxed her shoulders. "Five, please, can we talk?"</p><p> </p><p>Eight grinned at her, all teeth and no genuinity. "No."</p><p> </p><p>He continues to pay rapt attention at her, especially at her mouth. If she tries to rumor him, Eight will have to kill her. She wasn't the ideal victim but he was positive he can make it work anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Or maybe he could capture her? He could hand her over to the Sparrow Academy and he would make great progress at gaining their trust and subsequently baiting the remaining Umbrellas in a trap. What better way to be considered an ally than to be instrumental in getting rid of their enemies?</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe he could get the Umbrellas angry enough that they would kill the Sparrows for him, because as much as Eight would enjoy killing them with his own hands, he could get away with more if there were a larger pool of possible suspects. It would be a much cleaner execution than a bomb anyhow.</p><p> </p><p>Eight couldn't afford to be reckless though. It was still probable that some of the members of the Umbrella Academy were somewhere nearby. Or maybe they were surrounding him now?</p><p> </p><p>Something in his neglected façade must have betrayed the sheer distrust and hostility that Eight had because Allison had taken a step backwards.</p><p> </p><p>His heart inexplicably squeezed in pain at the movement.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Pain. Hurt. They're hurting me. They must be enemies, right?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eight gritted his teeth, hating the uncharacteristic indecisiveness and uncertainty that suddenly came out of nowhere and seized control of his body.</p><p> </p><p>They were staring at each other for far too long and the shoe needs to drop fucking soon.</p><p> </p><p>He had stabbed this woman with a needle, betrayed her belief that he was her family. He didn't hesitate that time. Why was he hesitating now?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Just attack her. Or leave.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She's dangerous, painful, and confusing. Her whole family was. Eight didn't need a distraction. He was here to do something fun, not her. Not HER. Whatever she is. Whatever she was to Eight.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Just attack her. Or leave.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight felt like leaving now. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He could feel the familiar buzz of his powers activating and Eight took a step forward, ready to jump somewhere. Anywhere but here.</p><p> </p><p>"Wait! Please!"</p><p> </p><p>And frustratingly, Eight stopped. </p><p> </p><p>Shit<em>.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>What? Did she rumor him?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He did not stop the growl that reverberated on his throat. "What?" He spat. "I have nothing to talk with you and you're wasting my fucking time!"</p><p> </p><p>Rather than flinch at his sudden anger, she simply took a slow, small step forward. The emotions in her eyes changed slower but grew stronger.</p><p> </p><p>There was an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty to her gaze, but it was almost hidden by the determined and imploring look in her face.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes say a lot, Eight wonders how it could be possible for someone to feel so much.</p><p> </p><p>He could barely feel anything but this woman in front of him was all scared, happy, guilty, determined, pleading, pained and... adoring.</p><p> </p><p>It took Eight's breath away.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I stabbed you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She took another step forward, a bit faster than her first step but still as careful. The look in her eyes keep flashing with emotions.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I hurt you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Try as he might, he could not see hate in the numerous emotions that somehow managed to cross her face. </p><p> </p><p>She started walking towards him. Her hands within visible sight and her voice gentle and kind.</p><p> </p><p>"I promise I'm alone, I just got separated with Diego while looking for a place to stay. This isn't a trap. I just want to talk, Five. Please."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I broke your brother's leg.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Please give me a chance."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight pursed his lips. She was directly in front of him by 1.65 meters. Why did he let her get so close?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He remembers the hug. He wished that he could forget the hug.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Right now, if she pulled him into one, would he end up doing the same thing? Or would she never hold him like that anymore?</p><p> </p><p>He's getting distracted. Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Get on track, Eight. Get. On. The. Fucking. Track.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Sure, I'll give you a chance," he shrugged, and her face lit up with hope. Eight contorted his face in an ugly sneer. "I will give you a chance to get away from me before I try incapacitate you. 2 minutes. Aren't I merciful?" </p><p> </p><p>He stepped closer with challenge in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>1.17 meters.</p><p> </p><p>There was a split second of hesitation, but Allison bravely stepped forward as well. </p><p> </p><p>0.69 meter.</p><p> </p><p>His mouth felt dry. He doesn't like the distance nor the unwelcome feeling of fear that grips him. He doesn't even know what he was afraid of.</p><p> </p><p>He was tempted to step backward, to leave and forget this ever happened.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, like the greatest hypocrisy that Eight had the misfortune of realizing about himself, he was also extremely tempted to stay.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Umbrella Academy was confusing and quite possibly, a threat, but they also brought with them a new set of emotions for Eight to feel.</p><p> </p><p>He was... curious, to say the least. Curious to see what they have to offer him. They could be useful toys...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"We could talk over coffee," Allison pleaded, just a tad bit more desperate. "I know a good place and I'll even pay for it!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Coffee. He did want coffee. And he could probably do what he wanted later anyway.</p><p> </p><p>He contemplated her suggestion for a few milliseconds before making a demand of his own. "On three conditions." </p><p> </p><p>Her voice adopted an eager tone but she also looked like she was readying herself for Eight to pull the rug underneath her feet. "What is it?"</p><p> </p><p>"You'll go alone with me. You won't inform anyone that you're coming with me. And you won't speak."</p><p> </p><p>Silence rang between them.</p><p> </p><p>Eight grinned, knowing full well the implications and the danger that she would put on herself if she agreed. Saying yes to those conditions is almost a death wish and a half. Even a child can spell the situation for the obvious trap that it could be.</p><p> </p><p>The audacious demand had angered her somewhat, but she also looked hurt at the unspoken accusation.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don't trust you.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>But if you want something from me, you will have to blindly trust me anyway.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>What idiot would say yes?</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a triumphant and derisive huff of breath and proceeded to walk away from her.</p><p> </p><p>The sound of her footsteps followed him. Genuinely surprised, he looked back at her.</p><p> </p><p>Her whole body lit up with fierce resolve, like a hardened soldier readying herself for war and for the worst that fate had to offer. Her voice carried along the street, clear, powerful, and confident.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Fine. But I need a paper and a pen first."</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Allison was probably making the worst decision of her life but she knew that what she's doing is an inevitable risk that they have to take anyway. They have to make contact with Five somehow and doing so in a group would only raise his hackles at them. He won't relax if he felt like he was on danger and outnumbering him was a surefire way of ensuring that.</p><p> </p><p>However, doing it alone is not a danger to him but them instead.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I'm sorry, Klaus.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She walked beside Five, trying and failing to stop herself from warily glancing at him. He was eerily quiet, his footsteps and his breath barely remarkable through the hubbub of the city. He was right next to her and yet she could barely feel his presence.</p><p> </p><p>An assassin. Their smallest brother is the best assassin the space-time continuum had to offer and Allison agreed to go with him alone. </p><p> </p><p>She was cautious, but she also missed him terribly at the same time and Allison could not stop the relief she felt that Five wasn't with the Sparrow Academy anymore. He's here, with her, right where he belongs. She didn't like the thought that he was alone with their abusive Father who was playing around with Five's memories like he was a game he could reset and control. She was getting tired of everything and everyone that was hell-bent on making his brother's life as miserable as possible.</p><p> </p><p>"What?" His question was acidic, and his eyes sharpened with irritation.</p><p> </p><p>'Sorry, just thinking,' she wrote. The act of writing her words dug unpleasant memories of their first apocalypse, of Vanya and a sliced throat, of their mistake that had set off the domino that was their messed-up life. Her way with words was her greatest strength and she felt that an important part was ripped away from her. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Five rolled his eyes before continuing his stride, eyes sweeping across everywhere in a hypervigilant manner that just punctuated how much unrelaxed he was right now.</p><p> </p><p>She bit her lip to hide what could have been an angry growl. It was just another thing that Reginald took away from them: Five's almost beautiful trust in his family despite all the years without each other. Every effort that they had done to get closer to their brother was wiped clean like it was unwanted dirt on the windshield. Reginald always had a way of screwing with them and it was becoming increasingly obvious that even a new timeline couldn't have changed that from him.</p><p> </p><p>They stopped in front of Griddy's. It was a subtle prod at Five, she hoped against hope that recognition would flash at his face but he didn't even spare the shop a second glance before walking in. It was achingly disappointing, it felt like a slap to reality.</p><p> </p><p>This donut shop held a lot of their fond memories, memories where they get to include Vanya with their group, where no one was concerned about pulling each other's ankle in a vain effort to gain their Dad's elusive praise. </p><p> </p><p>It was nothing but a random donut shop to Five now. She could almost feel the frustrated tears that welled on her eyes, she took a shuddering breath and followed him inside.</p><p> </p><p>He was seated on a booth with a good view of the entrance of the donut shop. He looked out of place with the vibrant interior and was in the middle of raising an eyebrow at her.</p><p> </p><p>Allison resisted the urge to weakly roll her eyes fondly at his dramatics.</p><p> </p><p>She approached their table while writing in her paper. She raised it to him when he was close enough to read what she has to say.</p><p> </p><p>'Order?'</p><p> </p><p>"Black coffee." The answer was quick and expected. Some things haven't been removed it seems, Allison was grateful for that.</p><p> </p><p>'Donut?'</p><p> </p><p>He furrowed his brow after reading her note, his eyes swept across the wide, colorful selection before shrugging. "Get me anything."</p><p> </p><p>She nodded and approached the counter. A kind looking woman greeted her and took her order, pinned on her bright pink uniform was the nametag that read 'Agnes'. As she walked back to their table, she watched Five who was busy staring blankly at the window and all the people walking the street.</p><p> </p><p>He was uncharacteristically still, fingers tapping on the table but not in the typical way he does when he gets impatient. He was always in a hurry, as if time itself was snapping at his heels with eyes focused on a singular goal the whole way. But now, Allison could imagine him walking around the street without a care in the world. </p><p> </p><p>It was the most evident thing that had changed with Five. The blazing fire in his eyes had disappeared, replaced with alarming emptiness, his anger did not feel like heat anymore just cold. She had noticed the fact while talking to him a few minutes prior, his hostility, even though it was never focused on Allison before, did not feel like his.</p><p> </p><p>When they were buying her pen and paper, he had looked at everything in the supplies store like they were vague entertainment before losing interest just as fast.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Get Number Eight to fall in love with you. Hard."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>How? </p><p> </p><p>The person in front of her didn't seem capable of love.</p><p> </p><p>He looked... temporary, as if he could disappear at any second and Allison would never see him again.</p><p> </p><p>She took a seat right in front of him and his fingers halted from its movements. It was the only indication he made that he noticed her arrival.</p><p> </p><p>Allison hated feeling helpless. She hated that she just couldn't pull away her brother from her Not-Dad-Anymore when it was obvious that it was doing some kind of damage to him. She desperately wished that whatever it was, it was temporary, that they weren't permanently screwing Five up by taking their time and slowly trying to get closer to him.</p><p> </p><p>She was tired of losing the people that she loves. </p><p> </p><p>"What did you want to talk about?" He drawled, slowly looking up at her.</p><p> </p><p>She hastily wrote in her paper.</p><p> </p><p>'Do you not want your memories back?'</p><p> </p><p>His lips twitched upwards slightly but there was no joy in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"No."</p><p> </p><p>'Why not?'</p><p> </p><p>Allison did not want to hear his answer, but she wrote it anyway.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't give a shit."</p><p> </p><p>Allison wanted to let out a scream, but she swallowed it inside. He either truly meant it or he's just saying it to get her riled up.</p><p> </p><p>Herb had warned them about Five, about the monster that they were facing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“It wasn't much data, but he did lose control at the start of the experiment.” Herb had said. “He's a creature of instinct and impulse, usually of a violent kind. He would tear out a nurse's ear just to see if he could dissect the bones out of it. He would cry and beg to be let out, cooperate for a full day, then stab someone's back just because he could. He's capable of playing the long con but just as susceptible to bouts of random impatience. He could be careful; he could be careless. It all depends on his whim, about how he's feeling that particular day.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The fate of the world was in danger because of a whim. Wasn't that just wonderful?</p><p> </p><p>Agnes brought their order and they silently drank their coffee.</p><p> </p><p>She barely registered the taste of her drink, mind too busy whirling around trying to think of a way where she could help Five, a way for all of them to go home.</p><p> </p><p>She was slowly beginning to realize that they have no other choice but to follow Herb's plan. But fucking how?</p><p> </p><p>Allison did not even know what Five had loved about her anyway, about any of them actually. Heck, they just found out that he did a short while ago.</p><p> </p><p>After careful consideration, Five took a bite out of his donut, his eyes widened a bit before taking another bite.</p><p> </p><p>So he still favors the same donut filling. She was thankful that she remembered right.</p><p> </p><p>She made a mental note to offer him a Fluffernutter next time.</p><p> </p><p>He licked his fingers clean before taking another sip of his coffee. He placed it down with a quiet clink and he landed a curious glance at her.</p><p> </p><p>"You're foolish, you know that right?"</p><p> </p><p>'I want you to trust me. And I won't get that if I did the opposite to you.' She wrote.</p><p> </p><p>They will have to trust the monster that the Commission and Reginald had created, trust that he won't betray them while they make an effort to grow close with him.</p><p> </p><p>Because no bond can be built without trust. And Five will never offer it first.</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a derisive snort. "Like I said, foolish."</p><p> </p><p>'I know.'</p><p> </p><p>Allison could still remember the sensation of the needle prickling her skin.</p><p> </p><p>Five did not look pleased and there was almost a frustrated glint in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>After further contemplation, Allison started writing again.</p><p> </p><p>'You're our brother and we want you back. NO MATTER WHAT.'</p><p> </p><p>He pulled back, almost as if he was burned by her words. She could feel his tension rising.</p><p> </p><p>"Want me?" He gritted the words out. "You don't even know <strong>me."</strong></p><p> </p><p>Allison crossed out the 'I do' that she was beginning to write. In the end, despite all effort to grow closer with Five during all of their running, their conversation with Herb just proved that they never did know enough.</p><p> </p><p>'I want to, but we'll still want you.' She promised instead.</p><p> </p><p>He abruptly stood up, his eyes blazing with unreadable emotion, and Allison shouldn't have been relieved at the sight of it, but she was. This was Five. Her Five. <em>Their</em> Five.</p><p> </p><p>"You're delusional and a liar," He spat.</p><p> </p><p>She hurriedly wrote her words, trying to finish her words before he could try to leave.</p><p> </p><p>'I wouldn't be here if I didn't mean it.' The words were messy and scratchy.</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head, a growl escaping from him. He looked ready to attack and Allison was reminded of Vanya holding his hand, declaring that she wanted him to be with them. She remembered the vulnerable way that Five had looked, almost disbelieving but also painfully <em>hopeful</em>.</p><p> </p><p>She wished that they had whispered more words of affection with him. She wished that they have told him how much they loved him when it could have meant something than just empty words from a complete stranger.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm done here," he declared in between gnashed teeth.</p><p> </p><p>"Please!" She couldn't stop the words from escaping her lips nor the way her hand instinctively grabbed his wrist. "Please meet me here again. Tomorrow?"</p><p> </p><p>Five looked at her, jaw clenching before sighing out loud. Tension flowed out from him as he pulled his wrist away from her soft hold.</p><p> </p><p>"Fine."</p><p> </p><p>He blinked away.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>On the next day, he never showed up. Nor the day after it. </p><p> </p><p>Allison still waited for him anyway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm back!!! Sorry for the long wait and thank you for all your kind support, comments and kudos. I get so extremely tempted to gush at all of you at how wonderful you all are and had to control myself from sharing my own thoughts at some of your observations, but I feel like I'm going to end up spoiling something by mistake.</p><p>Thank you! I hope you like this chapter :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Act of Digging Your Own Grave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Five never gets a break but he gets to break apart anyway</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He landed on the park next to the tree that he almost smacked himself with at least an hour ago. He felt like his wrist got scalded with Allison's touch and he's trembling again. </p><p> </p><p>He failed to notice the dove above him which flew away the moment its eyes landed on his shaky form. He leaned on the tree and he vaguely felt like the ground is crumbling from underneath his feet.</p><p> </p><p>She was lying, he wasn't supposed to get affected by her words. It was just words. Empty promises. He didn't even wish for what she's offering him anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Who would want <em>this</em>?</p><p> </p><p>This barely human thing that was <strong>him</strong>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But she felt genuine, more genuine than the Sparrow Academy ever was with him. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe, they weren't enemies after all?</p><p> </p><p>Or they were better liars?</p><p> </p><p>Did he want his memories back? He would know who were lying if he did.</p><p> </p><p>But who cares if they were liars? Who cares if they were telling the truth?</p><p> </p><p>Eight didn't want a family.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Five does.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>But he wasn't Five. And even if he was, he was not him anymore.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't care about anything. He just needs to find something to kill, just like he planned in the first place.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>45 years, 45 fucking long years. He needs to send his family home.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"You're the reason we're stuck here in the first place!"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The voice that reverberated on his head felt familiar, the stab of pain in his chest felt familiar. He could feel his eyes watering.</p><p> </p><p>He missed them.</p><p> </p><p>He missed them so much.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"You owe me one, sis."</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>His brain froze again, but this time it was much more painful like hundreds of fine needles of ice were prickling with his head. Were all of these Five’s memories?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Five was messing with his head. The memories were messing with his head. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"What about my family?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He collapsed on his knees, positive that his head was splitting apart. Shards of conversation flitted about his head, freezing his head off better than dry ice could ever achieve. He pulled his hair trying to distract himself from the freezing pain underneath his skull or his brain or between his eyes. Wherever it is, it fucking hurts.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>But he knows them. He knows the Umbrella Academy. He's sure of it.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Allison may not have been lying after all.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He wanted to meet Claire.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>His ears are starting to ring from the pain. </p><p> </p><p>Forget.</p><p> </p><p>Forget.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Forget</strong>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What was he thinking about again?</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight blinked at the ground, not quite remembering why he collapsed in the park in the first place. Alarmed, he looked around while feeling strangely vulnerable.</p><p> </p><p>He stood up on shaky knees. There's a cool feeling in his head, like something had poured menthol in it. It was getting gradually painful by the second.</p><p> </p><p>What's happening?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He was so close. He was so close to home. Why did he leave his sister there? What if she gets captured because of him? He shouldn't have left! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He gasped in pain, the freezing feeling returning once again.</p><p> </p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p>He could feel his heart twisting painfully in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't let me forget. I don't want to forget. I don't want to be a killer anymore. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I want to go home. I want to go home. Please, please. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Like glass breaking, he forgets once again.</p><p> </p><p>And then, he remembers.</p><p> </p><p>He forgets.</p><p> </p><p>He remembers.</p><p> </p><p>It hurts. Its agonizing. He wants it to stop. His head is killing him.</p><p> </p><p><em>He was Five</em>. He was Eight. He was both at once. Then, he was no one.</p><p> </p><p>What was he thinking about again?</p><p> </p><p>He forgot something.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He remembers Klaus' awful brew. He drank all of it anyway.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>His head froze.</p><p> </p><p>Where was he?</p><p> </p><p>He had stabbed Allison with a needle.</p><p> </p><p>Why did he do that?</p><p> </p><p>He can't.</p><p> </p><p>Where was he?</p><p> </p><p>He forgets.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They hold hands, blue light washed over them as Five tries to save his family from their awful fate.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He could never save himself anyway.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He forgets.</p><p> </p><p>He remembers.</p><p> </p><p>He forgets.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The moment Two's dove returned with their youngest brother's location, the rest of the Sparrow Academy headed straight to the park. Surprisingly, even Reginald had come with them. The old man was carrying a briefcase with him and they drove to the park in a hurry.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't hard to find Eight. He was curled to a ball on the ground, clutching his head as he made noises of pain.</p><p> </p><p>One saw his Dad knitting his eyebrows at the sight.</p><p> </p><p>"He's starting to remember. I should have known that it won't last," Reginald muttered before looking at them. "Get him back to the Academy."</p><p> </p><p>Four was the first one to approach, a worried look painted in his face. He was in the middle of placing his hands on Eight's shoulder when the boy suddenly lunged out a fist. It hit Four straight in the nose, and One was sure he heard the familiar crunch of it breaking.</p><p> </p><p>Number Eight hissed, scrambling to his feet while wincing uncontrollably.</p><p> </p><p>"W-who?"</p><p> </p><p>They exchanged looks with each other.</p><p> </p><p>Eight shook his head before recognition flashed in his eyes. "Dad?"</p><p> </p><p>He spoke in such a small voice. Number One had never heard him sound like his age before.</p><p> </p><p>Number Two took a step forward and Eight clenched his fists.</p><p> </p><p>Shit, he's going to teleport away!</p><p> </p><p>Eight's eyes travelled almost maniacally towards all of them. He was breathing loudly like he just ran a marathon, fists sparking with his powers.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes landed on Number One.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Ben</em>?" One can feel his heart twinge at the hopeful and heartbreaking tone that Eight had adopted. The rest of the Umbrella Academy had reacted to him the saw way the first time around.</p><p> </p><p>"Number One, get him." Reginald ordered. One gulped, feeling strangely nervous, before slowly approaching Eight. He can see the boy relaxing his fists, his powers dissipating.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey," he tried to soothe the kid. "Come here, let's go home."</p><p> </p><p>Number Eight clutched his head instead, mumbling incoherent words and what sounded like the Umbrella Academy's names. Nevertheless, Number One managed to get close to him without further problems. He lifted the kid, who shouldn't feel as light as he apparently was, and slung him on his shoulders like a sack of potato.</p><p> </p><p>Eight weakly scrambled from his hold. "Head... hurts?... Ben?...One?..."</p><p> </p><p>Reginald gestured back at the van before the man himself rushed inside. Obediently, the rest of the Sparrow Academy followed.</p><p> </p><p>By the time that they have reached the vehicle, Reginald was already inside and impatiently waving One to go inside. </p><p> </p><p>One propped Eight to the seat, the boy looked dazed and his eyes were looking far away. He was still mumbling names and tears were flowing from his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>"What's happening to him?" One asked.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald was pouring a gray liquid in a cup, his briefcase laying open in front of him. "I have underestimated his obsession. A part of him refuses to forget and wants to stubbornly remember. With the way things are going, he would go on in this infinite loop of forgetting and remembering until his mind breaks." </p><p> </p><p>His old man stood up but there was no irritation in his eyes like One had surmised that he had. In fact, the old man looked grudgingly impressed as if Eight was a dog showing him new tricks.</p><p> </p><p>"Number Five," Reginald called and the boy looked at him. "You truly are a fascinating specimen and have successfully proven to me just how dangerous you are. Can you see this?"</p><p> </p><p>Dad shook the transparent cup in front of Eight. The boy weakly tried to get away, but One just held him down easily. </p><p> </p><p>"I just wanna... go h-home... please... tired... " The boy begged while clutching at One's clothes like a lifeline. </p><p> </p><p>One gazed at his Father, silently pleading, but Reginald simply shook his head. He sighed before resolutely pushing the barely struggling kid further into his seat. Eight was so weak that One was confident that he could hold him down with one arm.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry." One regretfully said before soothingly patting the kid's head with his other hand. It was empty comfort, but the boy was so delirious in pain that he leaned towards the touch anyway.  Slowly, he can feel the boy softening with every stroke and a fond look was directed at him.</p><p> </p><p>The guilt that rushed towards him was almost painful.</p><p> </p><p>"Do not worry, both of you." Reginald said and tilted the boy's head upwards. Eight stopped struggling but he was still whimpering in pain. "He won't feel anything after this."</p><p> </p><p>Reginald poured the liquid in Eight's pliant mouth. Afterwards, Dad blocked the kid's mouth and nose, effectively forcing the boy to gulp at the concoction.</p><p> </p><p>One can feel the grip on his arm gradually loosening. He pulled away and watched the kid's painful expression slowly ebb away and get replaced with an empty gaze. Number Eight slumped as if strings were suddenly cut away from his limbs.</p><p> </p><p>"W-what did you do?"</p><p> </p><p>"Emotions were too dangerous on him. I simply removed it." </p><p> </p><p>Reginald flicked Eight's forehead and the boy didn't even flinch. </p><p> </p><p>"See, the pain stopped. Where's my thanks, Number Eight?"</p><p> </p><p>The boy languidly slid his eyes to meet Reginald's eyes. He looked peaceful but also completely out of it, like a mindless puppet. "Thank you, Dad."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(Deep in the New Commission headquarters, the Infinite Switchboard rang. Red lights flickered on Herb's anxious form.</p><p> </p><p>They were officially one step closer to the apocalypse.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Your Greatest Enemy is Yourself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Despite everything else, in the end, Reginald got what he wanted.</p><p>But was it really for the best?</p><p>Or Five loses more of his humanity. This time, deliberately.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight felt like he was floating. The excruciating, almost burning from the cold sensation that he was enduring just a second ago slowly left him like everything else did. Now, he truly was nothing.</p><p> </p><p>The concoction took effect and the panic that he was feeling was replaced with sudden lethargy. It felt like he was carefully being submerged underwater, everything was muted and yet he doesn't, <em>couldn't</em> drown.</p><p> </p><p>He just floats.</p><p> </p><p>He just exists.</p><p> </p><p>He took a breath.</p><p> </p><p>His Dad and One was saying something to each other, their voices were echoing from a distance away. Something flicked his forehead and he slid his eye to meet Reginald's. The pain barely registered. His thoughts felt syrupy, viscous and slow, barely helping him understand anything.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald said something about thanking him. Eight thanked him, for what he didn't know, but he doesn't know anything now and obeying was the only thing that came easy.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't want to do anything. He doesn't desire for anything. If he doesn't listen to anyone's order, he would cease to exist, he would cease to function like a puppet with no one to play his strings with.</p><p> </p><p>He can feel One's gaze but Eight could no longer accurately decipher the emotion that flickered on his face. His thoughts were too slow, much too slow to keep up with how quick One schooled his expression to something more neutral, much too slow to remember what it looked like.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, he let the unknown be the unknown.</p><p> </p><p>He's useless now. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn't care. </p><p> </p><p>The people in the van were saying something. They were urging the rest of his family inside, Eight didn't even spare them a glance. Everything was suddenly too much of an effort, it was easy to just stare at nothing, <strong>be</strong> nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn't care less.</p><p> </p><p>But he wasn't a stranger to this numbness. He vaguely remembers experiencing the same thing and fearing that it would become permanent. He had dreaded that nothing would make him feel anything, it was why he wanted to kill in the first place. Now, his worst fears have come true but Eight couldn't even feel despair, he couldn't even remember what feelings felt like, just the concept of it remains.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn't even feel how wrong this was. But he knows it is. He wasn't a doll, he wasn't a puppet, but the rightful anger doesn't come for him. Nothing would come for him, nothing would save him but himself.</p><p> </p><p>He only knows that this was wrong because he was still capable of rational thought, slow as it was. His mind recognizes the gaping hole that Reginald had scooped out from him. Logically, he knew that he was supposed to be fighting this.</p><p> </p><p>"Woah, he looks weird."</p><p> </p><p>"D-did we really need to do this?"</p><p> </p><p>"Of course we do. He's dangerous."</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know, this doesn't feel like a heroic thing to do."</p><p> </p><p>"Is he even there anymore?"</p><p> </p><p>"Who cares? Just leave him like that."</p><p> </p><p>"One, you okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yep, he ignored you. What's wrong with him too?"</p><p> </p><p>He didn't feel like fixing this situation. But he knows that he should. But it was also difficult to do anything, almost impossible for him. He can't feel motivated even if he knows the right thing to do, there was a lazy part in himself that simply refused to care. He was a puppet with no strings. He needed someone to tell him what to do.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Eight, stand up!"</p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck dude?!"</p><p> </p><p>Eight languidly stood up.</p><p> </p><p>"Shit."</p><p> </p><p>"Fuck that was cool!"</p><p> </p><p>"No, it wasn't! This is messed up!"</p><p> </p><p>"What? He deserved it!"</p><p> </p><p>He knows that he needs to put a stop to this. Every second counts and he was quickly running out of time.</p><p> </p><p>But there was nothing. He cares about nothing, not even himself. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Then, ignore it.</em> A cold voice whispered, it sounded like him and at the same time, it doesn't. <em>You don't need emotions anyway. It was what placed you in this predicament in the first place, wasn't it?</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Sentiments. Emotions.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight doesn't need it anymore. He doesn't need it to do anything. He needs nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He clenched his fists and the strands of time bended itself to his orders.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight almost gasped at the sudden coherency that flowed into him, he closed his eyes in an effort to hide the sudden clarity that would be evident in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>He could still recognize the tell-tale signs of the frost building up in his brain. He was inside their car, and he could feel Number One holding him down and Reginald rummaging on his briefcase.</p><p> </p><p>He only had few seconds to figure out what to do. But this time, his thoughts went fast, nothing like the syrupy sensation before. Now, it flowed to him like waterfalls, fast, hard, and merciless.</p><p> </p><p>The memories were still trying to flood his brain and Eight did not want them to incapacitate him again. He gritted his teeth as he rode out the pain with sheer force of will. He didn't need those memories. He did not want it anymore. Sentiments had proven capable of hurting him better than anything else in this short life that he had. </p><p> </p><p>His memories were a foe to defeat now. And Eight intends to win.</p><p> </p><p>This all happened because Allison had placed curiosity in him. She had tempted him and he was a fool for slightly wanting to regain his memories.</p><p> </p><p>What he got was a freezing brain and a numbing concoction. </p><p> </p><p>He drowned out the memories, actively burying it deep into his mind. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly but surely, he could feel it recessing, defeated and sorrowful. Eight ignored the painful twinge in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Emotions were dangerous. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Reginald stood in front of him, saying the same spiel that he was uttering just a few seconds ago. </p><p> </p><p><strong> <em>This</em> </strong> <em>. This is what family is like, Number Eight. You don't want another one. They would watch you suffer, lie to your face and enjoy themselves with the pieces of your broken self.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>They would offer you words and acts of comfort but they would never go and prove it. They would pretend that seeing you like that was wrong but never do anything about it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eight doesn't need them. He doesn't need anyone. Not anymore. He would want no one.</p><p> </p><p>Not the Sparrow Academy and certainly not the Umbrella Academy.</p><p> </p><p>Resolve hardened his heart or maybe it froze it solid?</p><p> </p><p>Eight doesn't care.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, he wasn't as different to the version of himself that drank that liquid. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He played it exactly as he did a few seconds ago. He said the same words and acted the same pathetic way. He even let Reginald pour the strange mixture into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>That is when things start going differently.</p><p> </p><p>He opened a small portal inside his mouth, a few centimeters away from his tonsil. The portal was connected to a nearby fountain, where he let the liquid flow harmlessly. Afterwards, he pretended to gulp and cough as if he was taken by surprise from its entrance to his throat.</p><p> </p><p>And now, it was only a matter of feigning to be their broken toy. He just needed to act numb and devoid of anything. Eight could laugh at the irony of it all because he barely needed to act for this particular role. </p><p> </p><p>It was certainly easier than posing a false front of a brother who loved them anyway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>He's getting too good at deceiving us all...</p><p>Once again, thank you very much for your untiring support. And yes, I would never get tired of thanking you in every chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. There's No Going Back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The second fall out.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for updating so late! Had some errands to ran.</p><p> </p><p>Once again, thank you for continuing to read this fic! Love ya! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They drove back home and as they parked the car, Reginald ordered Eight to go to the infirmary for a check-up. It smelled fishy as fuck but Eight slowly nodded and did as he was told anyway, heading straight to said place while the old man presumably debriefed the rest of the Sparrow Academy on how to act around him. </p><p> </p><p>Eight went inside and slumped on the nearby chair, letting his eyes wonder tiredly along the whitewashed wall. Despite having a healer on his team, Eight was not surprised that Reginald still made precautions just in case something went wrong. The infirmary was well equipped and well stocked. The cabinets were brimming with medicinal paraphernalia and sheets were thoroughly washed to a pristine white.</p><p> </p><p>He had rummaged around in here once. This is where he got the needle and the medicine that knocked Allison out. It was the single time that he had let the security camera capture him stealing a weapon because he only planned on using it against enemies like the Umbrella Academy.</p><p> </p><p>Right, the security cameras would certainly become more of a pain now more than ever. Eight closed his eyes and tried to remember what he felt with the concoction on him. He needed to enter that headspace if he wanted to succeed at fooling Reginald.</p><p> </p><p>His past state roughly felt like disassociation combined with a sleepy and lazy haze while his thoughts increasingly slowed to the point of pathetic. Honestly, he could see why Reginald did not want to go this route immediately. Eight's powers were strictly disciplined and mathematically supported, lowering his brain capacity is synonymous to rendering him useless in a fight.</p><p> </p><p>He mentally shook his head, halting the whirring of his brain and finally getting into the right headspace. Fortunately, it was just in time because Reginald chose that exact second to enter the room. The man proceeded to stride in front of him and hold Eight's chin up.</p><p> </p><p>"How are you feeling, Eight?" He questioned, his voice and hands were equally tight with tension. Apprehension was evident on the old man’s withered eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Eight slightly shook his head while refraining himself from punching the man's lights out. He did not like Reginald touching him at all and he barely hid the revulsion that creeped on him.</p><p> </p><p>The old man did not look pleased at his non-answer and simply tightened his hold on Eight's jaw. "I need you to be more articulate than that, Number Eight!"</p><p> </p><p>Reginald already knew the effects of that liquid so he was either trying to see if Eight could fight it or ensuring that he did not have a different reaction.</p><p> </p><p>Eight simply blinked slowly at Reginald and the man roughly lets his face go. Dad started pacing in the clinic and Eight sleepily watched a single spot on the floor. </p><p> </p><p>"What triggered your memory?"</p><p> </p><p>This was one nice floor.</p><p> </p><p>Several silent seconds passed before Reginald took the hint that the boy wasn’t planning on answering. Eventually, the sound of a drawer being opened from a nearby desk filled the silent room.</p><p> </p><p>Eight was deliberately letting himself be vulnerable to the one person that he could never trust just because he felt like it. Wasn't this quite a hobby? </p><p> </p><p>"Number Eight!" </p><p> </p><p>Without moving his head, Eight peered blankly at Reginald who was holding a scalpel and a notebook in his hands. Realization dawned on him about what was about to happen.</p><p> </p><p>He briefly considered fighting back but he abandoned the thought just as fast. He was curious to see just how bad his situation could have been if he truly consumed that gray liquid. He wanted to experience Reginald's worst because he can, because he could, because why fucking not?</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to laugh out loud at the insanity that suddenly started choking him out. He wanted to know if hurting himself could bring him the same joy that hurting others could.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ah shit. Shit. </p><p> </p><p>Perhaps disassociating was not a good combination with his propensity for violence after all?</p><p> </p><p>Eight curbed the excitement that ran on his veins as Reginald approach him, scalpel held downwards. He watched the man stab his small hand clean through.</p><p> </p><p>The monster inside him cackled ominously at his head. It echoed, loud and grating, and for a very long time it was the only sound that Eight could hear.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After running a few more experiments with Eight, Reginald finally looked thoroughly convinced.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How did this man sleep peacefully at night if he was always this paranoid?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The man had even made Eight swore up and down to always obey whatever the Sparrow Academy says. A schedule detailing what he must do on a specific location on what time and how long was also drawn up for him.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald seemed to have been pulling out all stops in order to ensure that he would know if Eight snapped out of his trance. When everything was said and done, he disinterestedly wiped his hands and specifically ordered that the boy would not leave the infirmary without waiting for Six to heal his wounds.</p><p> </p><p>The door closed with a quiet click and Eight did not try to pull himself away from the cold linoleum. He just stared at nothing as his whole body throbbed in pain. </p><p> </p><p>He was unaware of how long he was staring at the blank wall, but a loud intake of breath led him to look vacantly at Six who had just entered the room. Guilt colored her face as she approached him.</p><p> </p><p>Despite the guilt, when she healed him, she only dealt with the major wounds as Reginald had ordered her to do. </p><p> </p><p>In the end, all of them were mindless sheep and Eight was wearing their wool.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Was he angry at them?</p><p> </p><p>He was. But not anymore angry than the day he learned that his family were lying to him. They were enemies and since then, he <em>never</em> let himself think for a second that they would offer him anything good. He cannot feel the sting of betrayal when he had expected the knife on the back.</p><p> </p><p>They wanted a puppet as a brother. </p><p> </p><p><em>Understandable</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Eight knows that he was dangerous, he will probably do the same if he knows anyone even slightly sharing the same personality as him.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing had changed since that day. He had yet to try and pry himself away from their constrictive grasp. He will let himself be choked to death because he can, because he could, because why not?</p><p> </p><p>He just wants them dead.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>His only want.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Without it, he would not be different from the lifeless doll that he pretends to be.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next day after breakfast, Reginald had, once again, commanded the Sparrow Academy to search for the Umbrella Academy. He drew up a map and assigned his obedient sheep to different parts of the city to investigate separately.  </p><p> </p><p>Eight stared at the board, pretending that he wasn't listening to whatever Reginald was saying. In reality, his mind was already making a decision. He was thankful that he had studied the maps that Reginald had created for their perusal beforehand.</p><p> </p><p>In just a few minutes, the rest of the Sparrow Academy left the building. Exactly 15 minutes before 9 o'clock, he started heading to their library. As was written on schedule, he studied for 2 hours straight. He was careful not to do complex math nor read in his normal speed which means he barely managed to get anything done in that timeframe.</p><p> </p><p>And then finally, it was time for his long-awaited bath. The bathroom is the only place where he could stay out of security cameras without attracting attention. He intends to milk that 15 minutes for all that its worth.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald was many things but luckily, he was not a pervert. The camera had also offered a blind spot in front of the closet in every room in case any of the Sparrows had wanted to change their clothes without having to go to the bathroom for privacy.</p><p> </p><p>He grabbed his change of clothes, careful not to let his excitement speed up his movements. He subtly teleported the knife he had hidden in his room towards his waiting hands. He tucked it underneath his change of clothes and headed out of his room.</p><p> </p><p>He went straight to the bathroom that they commonly use, locking the door behind him. At this time of the day, Reginald would be at his office working on his research for new ways to fuck up his family with laser-like focus. </p><p> </p><p>Eight placed a soap directly behind the door, so that he would know if anyone tried to check up on him. He may have successfully fooled Reginald, but he wasn't planning on being careless.</p><p> </p><p><em>I must have gotten the paranoia from the old man</em>, he mused to himself as he slipped the most identifiable part of his uniform off. He opened the faucet before teleporting out.</p><p> </p><p>He clearly remembers the location of the security cameras scattered along the city and had chosen several places that were good hiding spots (<em>Here’s my sincere gratitude for the detailed map, Dad</em>). However, miscellaneous items were still unaccounted for, a problem that could prove to be quite a pain in the ass for his subtlety.</p><p> </p><p>He teleported on a dirty alley, startling a group of cats bad enough for them to hiss and make weird jumpy movements. He bared his teeth at them, and they appropriately ran away with a loud yelp. He lets out a sigh of irritation before scanning the skyline.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No birds. Good.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He subtly peered at the main road as he stayed in the dark shadow of the alley. <em>Now where was his chosen victim? </em></p><p> </p><p>His options were quite limited. Number Six was always with somebody else whenever the Sparrow Academy separates. This time, Five was assigned as her body guard. So, both of them are definitely out. To make matters more difficult, there was always a bird watching every single member, in case something went wrong. </p><p> </p><p>Eight grinned at himself. </p><p> </p><p>But a messenger means nothing without their translator. </p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, after a few more jumps, he found Number Two. He had, at most, 10 minutes left to wait for an opportunity. If it won't work today, well... Eight knows how to be patient. He could do it on another day.</p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless, he was sure that an opportunity will present itself. A person looking for someone on the run is bound to go to suspicious places and Eight only needs a second to get his job done.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, somebody pointed Two to a warehouse and the woman sneaked to a vantage point where she could observe it from a distance. She sent a dove to look inside while she watches from her hidden spot, eyes never leaving the building while several birds watch over her. After just a few seconds, the dove came back, and she held out a hand to let it perch on her.</p><p> </p><p>It would be quick and painless. She was lucky that Eight was running on a time limit.</p><p> </p><p>Quiet as a single leaf falling on concrete, Eight jumped directly behind her back. In a single, swift movement that costed him less  than a second, he stabbed her on the approximate spot where her heart was.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost pitiful that she could only let out a surprised gasp of pain as a retort to his attack.</p><p> </p><p>The moment he made contact with her, he hurriedly teleported both of them to where he planned on hiding the body. He was uncertain if the birds would remain loyal to her after death and the less they could recognize Eight, the better.</p><p> </p><p>They landed and before Two could even make another sound or try to order her birds telephatically, Eight snapped her neck. With a satisfying thump, her lifeless body fell.</p><p> </p><p>He crouched down to twist the knife inside her body before carefully pulling it out.</p><p> </p><p>He indulged in watching her corpse bleed out for exactly one minute.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And that's that. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>If he had time tomorrow, he would hide the body in a better place but for now, he needed his two-minute bath.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Take Him Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A crime shouldn't feel this silly.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The more I write Reginald, the more thankful I get that Five managed to bypass the new fuckery that he was made to drink. This story would have been a lot more messed up.</p><p>But maybe the fact that Five deliberately lets his Dad do that to him was more messed up after all? (He was harming himself and no one's stopping him.)</p><p>Nevertheless, not all abuse was written explicitly in this story and Five may have fooled you into thinking that he was a reliable narrator. He's an amnesiac and some of the abuse went over his head and labelled (and read as) normal. </p><p>Again, thank you so much for being with me on this journey. I hope you like this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight was busy reading when Four finally arrived at his spot in the library. His brother's eyes were wide with increasing panic and it kept travelling towards every part of the room, looking for something. He watched the man for a few seconds using the corner of his eyes before focusing on his texts once again.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Four slammed his hands palms down on the table Eight was perusing. The smaller of the two lazily raised his eyes at him in a silent question.</p><p> </p><p>"Have you seen Two?"</p><p> </p><p>Eight pretends to contemplate the question for 6 seconds before shaking his head at Four.</p><p> </p><p>Four cursed a storm and headed out, the door swinging after him with a loud bang.</p><p> </p><p>That night, dinner was only held between Reginald and Eight while the rest of the family continues to search for their wayward sister. Reginald was eating carefully and meticulously but Eight could observe that his mind was not really on his meal.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The culprit is right in front of you, Dad. You don't have to look so hard.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Due to Eight's slow bites, it was inevitable that Reginald had finished first. His Dad dropped the utensils on the table and announced that he would be resting for the night. </p><p> </p><p>Eight did not deem to give the man his response. He merely continued slicing the steak 10 seconds too long than normal as he listens to Reginald's footsteps leaving the dining area.</p><p> </p><p>The quiet that followed felt like a premonition for the coming storm.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Late in the night, muffled screams of anger signalled the arrival of the rest of the Sparrow Academy.</p><p> </p><p>It was the first time Eight heard the Sparrows raise their voice at Dad. They sounded angry and desperate, vengeful almost, and Eight strained his ears to listen at their demands.</p><p> </p><p>He caught words like: gone, umbrella, not again, save Two, get revenge, and first move.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever response that Reginald had for their arguments did not reach Eight's ears. The old man must have not broken his calm and controlled demeanor but this time, it did not help his case. Eight could hear the voices rising in volume and could feel the growing frustration even all the way from his room.</p><p> </p><p>Five's voice was definitely the loudest together with Four's. They were bouncing off from each other while the rest of the Sparrow Academy murmured agreement or hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>The Sparrows seems to have been convinced that Two's disappearance was because of the Umbrella Academy which makes sense since she went missing while looking for them. They wanted to launch an all-out attack but Reginald was not on board with their reckless and frankly aimless plan.</p><p> </p><p>They must have forgotten that they have yet to find the elusive group and therefore cannot launch an attack anywhere. Or maybe they found them today?</p><p> </p><p>A round of silence rang on the hallway before the yelling continues again. Eight rolled his eyes at the ruckus before burying himself deeper into his blankets, waiting for sleep to come and claim him.</p><p> </p><p>However, sleep escaped him completely when he heard his name being yelled and what suspiciously sounded like the word 'bait'. Reginald surprisingly or maybe not when Eight thought about it more, chose that time to start raising his voice. It still wasn't comprehensible for Eight but he could take a guess about what the old man is yelling about.</p><p> </p><p>Reginald had made every effort to ensure that Eight had less interaction with the Umbrella Academy as possible and after experiencing why, Eight was inclined to agree. In fact, Eight himself had gone through great lengths to guarantee that his thoughts would not drift to those <em>difficult</em> people for a significant amount of time. </p><p> </p><p>They argued for almost the whole night and Eight did not get his sleep. He was begrudgingly impressed at their insistence, he didn't think that the Sparrows had it in them to defy Reginald's will for so long. Perhaps his little scene at breakfast a few days ago had made an effect? Or perhaps that was all them? </p><p> </p><p>Whichever's the case, would it kill them to argue quietly or did he need to do the honors himself?</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Breakfast the next day was the first of its kind. Eight, as stated on his schedule, was 5 minutes early for it which was definitely expected. The rest of the Sparrow Academy's absence, even though they were still on the same building, was the unexpected part of it. </p><p> </p><p>It was an unmistakable act of defiance on their part.</p><p> </p><p>Stormy anger filled Reginald's eyes when he looked at the almost memberless dining table. It was actually quite intimidating.</p><p> </p><p>With very efficient and powerful steps, the old man headed straight towards Eight, who was waiting obediently in front of the table.  </p><p> </p><p>Eight saw the movement coming but he made no move to dodge. </p><p> </p><p>Reginald gripped Eight's collar and used it to harshly pull the kid to meet his eyes. The man's face clouded with wrath before socking the boy straight in the jaw.</p><p> </p><p>With remarkable strength, the punch's momentum made Eight unceremoniously hit the table with a loud clamor. His side painfully made contact with the hard wood of the chair and he fell with it on the cold floor. He refrained from working his jaw and checking if the senior citizen managed to dislocate it. </p><p> </p><p>Reginald's formidable and acerbic voice echoed in the room. "You have talent in ruining things, Number Eight." </p><p> </p><p>He made Eight stand by pulling forcibly on his left arm. </p><p> </p><p>"After this mess, be ready for your punishment." He hissed at the boy's ear. "Defy me again and I will cease to show mercy on you."</p><p> </p><p>Reginald pulled Eight as he walked, his grip bruising. "Your response?"</p><p> </p><p>"I will be obedient. I won't mess up. I will accept my punishment," Eight recited, feeling vaguely manhandled. He could not understand why Reginald was being so forceful and pulling incessantly as if he's struggling away when it was quite obvious that he wasn't. He thought Reginald was above such petty acts of anger but maybe he was wrong?</p><p> </p><p>Reginald summoned the rest of the Sparrow Academy and when they finally arrived, the man pushed Eight towards them.</p><p> </p><p>"Fine, use him as you please." His tone was measured, disappointed and at the same time, threatening. "But never forget. If something wrong happens, it’s all on you. It is simply a matter of time before you all regret your defiance to me."</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Are we sure about this?" Six asks for what may have been the seventh time this day. </p><p> </p><p>"Look, we either wait for the Umbrella Academy to pick us off one by one or we stop them now!" Five countered angrily, sparks of electricity aiding his show of aggressiveness.</p><p> </p><p>"I hope that Two's okay," Four whispered to One who nodded grimly.</p><p> </p><p>"We can't waste time. We have to save her."</p><p> </p><p>The plan, if it can even be called one, was fairly simple. Eight was supposed to walk around the city until any of the Umbrellas find him. Meanwhile the Sparrow Academy would be watching a safe distance away. </p><p> </p><p>If he had the liberty of speaking his mind, he would have yelled at them for being stupid enough to rely entirely blind on luck. </p><p> </p><p>"Look, we found one of them before they escaped yesterday. They're probably still in the city." Five said and Six nodded at him.</p><p> </p><p>One furrowed his brow, probably doing the math. "How did one person escape the two of you?" </p><p> </p><p>"Some of their members came and we were outnumbered." Five huffed. "As if we'll let them escape otherwise."</p><p> </p><p>They discussed amongst themselves a bit more before letting Eight choose a random direction.</p><p> </p><p>"Go walk anywhere and if they find you, distract them for us while we surround them." </p><p> </p><p>It took great effort to stop himself from rolling his eyes exasperatedly at them. He could take them at the coffee shop where Allison could still be waiting for him. It was certainly a smarter choice than walking around blindly at the large city and getting his legs numb from the useless effort.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, he walked towards the opposite direction and the Sparrows dispersed on his fifth step. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't protecting Allison, he was simply toying with his family and leading them on a wild goose chase. That's all. Eight refuses for it to be anything but that.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, he was unsure of how much he could fight the onslaught of memories in the face of those people. It was a risk that he was unwilling to make.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Depending on who you asked, he doubted that he'd be lucky or unlucky enough to find them on this random direction. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight should have known that he was due for some unlucky events in his life. Karma works like that.</p><p> </p><p>"Five!" Diego (Eight recognized him by his voice) rushed towards him from the spot where he was handing out a pack of tissues. He was wearing a black hoodie, sunglasses and a mask under the blazing sun and it wasn't quite a surprise that no one was crazy enough to accept the freebie from him. He tossed his pathetic disguise and the tissues away with reckless abandon, eyes never leaving Eight with every step.</p><p> </p><p>"What the fuck, man? Allison waited for you, you asshole!" He looked like he was willing to throw more curses, but he stopped abruptly, taking note of the blank way that Eight stares at him.</p><p> </p><p>"Wh-what happened to you?" The worry in his voice almost gave Eight whiplash. Gently, Diego touched his cheek where Reginald had punched him a while ago. It must have made an ugly bruise to his face if Diego's look of horror was any indication.</p><p> </p><p>The taller man pulled away, blinking rapidly at Eight. "I didn't expect you to let me touch you... What... Are you okay? You l-look weird, man."</p><p> </p><p>Eight didn't respond to him. He refused to let his mind linger at Diego's gentle touch, he refused to think about this. He unwittingly found Diego and in a few minutes, the man would be captured. That's it and Eight would accept his punishment and sleep the day off.</p><p> </p><p>Diego gripped both of Eight's arms and shook him. "What the fuck. What the fuck? What the fuck! Are you okay? Five, t-this isn't f-f-funny you bitch! F-five?"</p><p> </p><p>Diego's voice was pleading and heavy with anguish. Horror and realization increased the man's distress as he tried to shake some sense into Eight.</p><p> </p><p>He looked so devastated and Eight couldn't understand why. He would have asked but the Sparrows were still watching them.</p><p> </p><p>"What did they do to you?! Five?!" Anger started lending Diego's tone a blade. He looked at his back without letting Eight go. "Luther! Fuck you! Come here you bastard! Luther! Luther!"</p><p> </p><p><em>Great</em>, there's two of them! </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They're surrounding you, idiots! Can't you fucking sense that something is wrong with me being here?!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, the lumbering form of the Umbrella Academy's biggest member appeared. He sounded tired when he spoke as if Diego wasn't cussing his name out </p><p> </p><p>"What? I only had a few more tissues to give away, I'm not helping you with yo- shit!"</p><p> </p><p>The man rushed towards Eight, too. </p><p> </p><p>Fucking fucking fucking fuck.</p><p> </p><p>"What happened to him?" The giant sounded so sincere when he spoke, his face softening with so much worry Eight was afraid it'll melt right off.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They're surrounding you! Stop getting distracted by me! I'm not even doing anything yet!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Do I look like I fucking know?!" Diego yelled, finally letting go of Eight's arms to check him over. "He's wounded everywhere!"</p><p> </p><p>Diego folded Eight's sleeves and the man choked at the sight of all the scars. The giant began tearing up and began cursing a storm as well.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stop. Don't cry. Don't cry.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Five?" Luther called, his voice extremely small for a person of his size. Eight could feel himself struggling. He could barely stop himself from reassuring them.</p><p> </p><p>Emotions, again. It was fucking with his head again.</p><p> </p><p>He pushed it away and slowly calmed the rampant beating of his heart. This would be over soon, Eight just needed to be patient. </p><p> </p><p>And sure enough, the Sparrow Academy revealed themselves. </p><p> </p><p>"Give up! You're surrounded!" One yelled. His jacket already open and ready to call upon horrors.</p><p> </p><p>"I can't believe you fell for that," Three muttered. </p><p> </p><p>Realizing that they were trapped, the two men exchanged quick looks with each other. Without warning, Luther reached out and scooped Eight from the ground. </p><p> </p><p>He didn't expect that.</p><p> </p><p>He also didn't expect them to start sprinting while carrying him.</p><p> </p><p>He was never carried like this before. Luther had somehow gently laid Eight's head on his shoulder while in the middle of running, his large arms protectively wrapping around him. It honestly felt more like a hug than a carry.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What...?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>This time, the blankness that engulfed his mind wasn't voluntary.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This...huh? Huh?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He lost control and he couldn't stop himself from stiffening from the hold. His muscles locked itself in panic. He never broke his act even in the face of Reginald's 'experiments' but this is the one that gets him?</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Five. We should have never left you alone in there. I'm sorry," Luther spoke, voice tight with restraining himself from crying.</p><p> </p><p>Eight was assaulted with the conflicting desire to pull away and to bury himself deeper into the embrace. Thankfully, he didn't have to make a decision himself because One yelled at him. </p><p> </p><p>"Get back here, Eight."</p><p> </p><p>He fruitlessly tried to push away but Luther had super strength and he figured that if he wanted to get away, he would have to teleport himself out.</p><p> </p><p>"No! Wait, Five! Don't listen to them!" Luther yelled, struggling to keep his hold on Eight without hurting him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Reginald ordered you to obey the Sparrows but he never said that you can't obey anyone else.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He stilled.</p><p> </p><p>"Shit, is he listening to them too?" Number Five yelled.</p><p> </p><p>Taking advantage of Eight's unexpected obedience, Luther continued running. Diego threw his knives at Six, and Four reflexively moved his shield to protect his sister.</p><p> </p><p>Taking advantage of the lack of barrier to impede their escape, Diego and Luther ran faster while tentacles snapped on their heels. Diego threw another knife at Five who jumped to the right to dodge the blade. They didn’t waste the split-second opening and proceeded to escape the Sparrow’s circle, barely dodging the bolt of electricity that almost punctured them.</p><p> </p><p>"We won't let you go back there, I promise. You're safe now," Diego swore with conviction before throwing three more knives at the Sparrows.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Could they?</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, Eight was extremely dubious of that.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Eigh-!" Four was probably trying to order something to Eight but Diego started yelling while running.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"LaLaLaLaLaLaLALALALA!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>These... These fucking, brainless <em>himbos</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He was getting kidnapped <em>on broad daylight</em> ON FOOT in front of his family. One of his kidnappers is singing his head off and another looked like a fucking kicked puppy.</p><p> </p><p>There wasn't even a getaway car. They're just running blindly with minimal chance of escape. And as if the odds being stacked against them aren't enough, they are just asking to be caught by taking Eight, a deadweight, with them.</p><p> </p><p>It was fucking ridiculous and reckless, the likes of which Eight had never experienced before. He was always careful with his plans, meticulous to the slightest details and patient for the perfect opportunity.</p><p> </p><p>These two ignored all those important variables like bulls in a china shop. They are just... not fucking thinking and relying solely on brute force and knives!</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They wouldn’t last long. They were bound to lose this chase one way or another when they didn’t even think twice about taking one of their enemies with them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But Eight couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip while trying to stifle the air that wanted to escape his mouth. He was sorely tempted to chuckle himself silly from this absurd event and his chest traitorously warmed with barely hidden mirth.</p><p> </p><p>He felt light and relaxed, tension he didn’t know he had just started bleeding out of his body. He was convinced that his bones turned to jelly and he found himself not so subtly cheering for the Umbrellas despite the odds.</p><p> </p><p>Becoming someone so entertaining should be illegal.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Tactile People are the Worst</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Press F to doubt.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eight had never labelled himself weak-willed before, but now, he was seriously considering referring to himself as such.</p><p> </p><p>After swearing to avoid emotions and sentiments two days ago, here he is getting comfortable in the literal arms of his enemies. Someone ought to strike him down for such hypocrisy.</p><p> </p><p>He would very much like to blame the memories for his sudden mellowness but the ice in his brain had never made itself known during the whole ordeal.</p><p> </p><p>This display of weakness was, without a doubt, all on him. </p><p> </p><p><strong>Fuck</strong>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Luther abruptly stopped running when an arch of electricity launched itself in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>"You're not getting away!" Number Five yelled from somewhere behind them. There was a loud rumble that sounded like thunder and Luther hurriedly dodged the lightning bolt that barely missed him. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you trying to kill us?!" Diego yelled and Eight refrained the urge to roll his eyes at them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wasn't it obvious?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He had a lot more unkind comments to make but he got distracted with the way Luther tightened his hold at him, angling Eight away from the Sparrow Academy with his own back.</p><p> </p><p>A brief alarm of danger rang on Eight's head, horribly aware that with one strong squeeze, he would be dead. How could he forget something so fundamentally hazardous? Suddenly, the warmth in his chest was no more.</p><p> </p><p>If he tightened his hold more, Eight would kill him. He still had his knife on him, it would break his lie but that would be more acceptable than dying here. But would they really kill him now, after everything?</p><p> </p><p>Why was he doubting the danger they pose? He couldn't, shouldn't trust anyone. Wherever this strange affection they had towards him originated from, something so unknown was undeniably a danger, an uncontrollable variable to his plans.</p><p> </p><p>Luther began running again with Diego hot on his heels.</p><p> </p><p>"Now what?!" Diego yelled.</p><p> </p><p>"How would I know?!" Luther yelled back.</p><p> </p><p> <em>No plans at all. I knew it! They're fucking hopeless.</em></p><p> </p><p>"How the hell are you planning on escaping us?! Just give up!" One yelled.</p><p> </p><p>"Had anyone ever told you that your persistence is annoying as shit?! Leave us alone!" Diego yelled back.</p><p> </p><p><em>Great</em>, now they're having a yelling match while chasing. Perfect!</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight wonders what they looked like from a third person view. The sight probably felt downright comical. He couldn't help but think that this was somehow a convoluted dream his less than sane mind had conjured.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I have an idea!" Diego yelled as he narrowly dodged a tentacle. The man jumped on Luther's back like an agile monkey scaling a banana tree.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not carrying you while I run! Do I look like a vehicle to you?!" Luther yelled back but he didn't make a move to shrug Diego off. In fact, he didn't even grunt at the sudden increase in weight and rather than slowing down, his pace just went faster. He didn't even sound winded.</p><p> </p><p>Dang, Eight's almost jealous.</p><p> </p><p>The attacks ceased a little when they approached more people during the chase. It also meant that they got slower as well due to the increase of obstructions in their way. </p><p> </p><p>Getting increasingly irritated, Five screamed at the people in the sidewalk. "Get away from here! Those are criminals and we're chasing them!" </p><p> </p><p>"Luther, jump!" Diego aggressively whispered as the people around them suddenly gave a wide berth. "Now!"</p><p> </p><p>Luther was silent for a second before crouching down and adjusting his grip on Eight.</p><p> </p><p>Frustratingly, despite saying that Eight would stab the giant if he does the exact thing, Eight just silently resigned himself to his faith. He couldn't risk his plans and the Umbrella Academy truly did not seem like they wanted him dead if their constant worry about him was any indication.</p><p> </p><p>This vaguely felt like trust. He trusted them to not kill him, trusted them with his life. Eight didn't know what to feel about that. </p><p> </p><p>And then Luther jumped, Eight could feel the rush of air as they left the ground and he was sure that he heard the concrete cracking under the giant's strength. It was an impressive height and rather than losing momentum and falling down, they started moving horizontally in mid-air. </p><p> </p><p>Oh, so maybe they weren't as brainless as he had thought. It was admittedly an ingenious way of using trajectory manipulation, he was maybe a bit impressed. Maybe, just a bit.</p><p> </p><p>Diego lets out a whoop of celebration and Luther chuckled with him. </p><p> </p><p>And maybe he liked how it felt, like how he imagined a rollercoaster ride would feel. The view also wasn't bad (he knows because he couldn't help but peer at it). And maybe he was a bit awe-struck.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next few minutes after landing were spent making sure that they weren't followed. Diego extracted himself from Luther, dusting himself and commenting that Luther probably needed a bath. Luther retaliated by saying that Diego probably needed to exercise more because even with super strength he noted that the smaller man was quite heavy. The petty insults blown itself to a full-on argument as if their surprising display of teamwork a mere minute ago was just a trick of the light.</p><p> </p><p>He resolutely drowned them out while figuring out what to do next.</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, he didn't think that they would make it this far, but they did, and now Eight was stuck in here.</p><p> </p><p>He could try to escape but...</p><p> </p><p>But what?</p><p> </p><p>Why could he not just leave?</p><p> </p><p>He could... he could get the location of their hiding spot, then he could leave...yeah, that sounded good.</p><p> </p><p>After a few more subtler jumps and slinking around (while arguing which is counterproductive, and why had no one captured them yet with this much noise???), they stopped in front of a house. </p><p> </p><p>If he wasn't acting mindless, he would have blinked at it. The house didn't feel homey, but it didn't feel abandoned either.   It was just another nondescript house in the quiet residential area for people who lived above poverty but below the filthy rich.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No wonder they couldn't be found...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Did they steal this house from someone? Rumored themselves into it? </p><p> </p><p>Anyways, he found their hideout... This is it.</p><p> </p><p>He needs to leave and report to Reginald. He still remembers that he was specifically ordered to return at a predetermined time today but somehow, the idea didn't feel appealing. He was a bit (maybe a lot) curious about the Umbrella Academy and this seems like the perfect opportunity to piss Dad off his pants which was definitely, <em>definitely</em> an appealing thought.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, he could always make an excuse for his lack of return. Surely Reginald would not expect him to be as functional as he was before he drank that gray liquid. </p><p> </p><p>After he satisfies his curiosity and maybe gain some more intel on the enemy, he could leave. Moreover, the Umbrella Academy was still a dangerous and confusing threat, and this was the perfect opportunity to grow some resistance against them because clearly, ignoring their general existence didn't seem to work.</p><p> </p><p>He stayed silent as Diego knocked on the door, his fists rhythmically hitting the hard wood.</p><p> </p><p>Was that a code? Diego felt like the type to invent silly codes like that.</p><p> </p><p>Not a second too soon, Vanya hurriedly opened the door while questions were already tumbling out of her mouth. "Your job is until 4:00 pm, what happened? Did you get attacked too? Do we need to leave?"</p><p> </p><p>Diego simply shook his head and stepped sidewards to reveal Eight who was still being carried by Luther.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my god," she gasped before whispering even more quietly to herself. "No way."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"What's wrong with him?" Vanya asked, following Luther and Eight like a small anxious tail. Luther carried Eight to the living room and gently lets the boy sit on the sofa.</p><p> </p><p>Diego shrugged. "We don't know, we found him during our job. They were probably using him as bait to get to us, but we're too badass for them!" </p><p> </p><p>His prideful tone sobered down as he added, "The dude still hadn't spoken to us and he had this weird, soulless look the whole time. He's also very injured, I almost didn't want to know what happened to him."</p><p> </p><p>Luther waved a hand in front of Eight but their smallest brother just stared blankly as if nothing was happening. It was terrifying. They had never seen him act this pliant before.</p><p> </p><p>"C-can he hear us?" Vanya asked as she sat herself right next to Eight.</p><p> </p><p>"I think so, he responded when the Sparrows were yelling at him right?" Luther directed his question at Diego who was starting to pace around the living room.</p><p> </p><p>Diego briefly stopped his pacing to run his hand in his hair. "Yeah."</p><p> </p><p>Vanya silently regarded Eight. "What were they yelling at him?"</p><p> </p><p>"Orders," Diego answered, getting increasingly agitated. "Where's Allison and Klaus?"</p><p> </p><p>"They're fine. Klaus is watching TV upstairs and Allison's cooking."</p><p> </p><p>Diego relaxed a bit at that before frowning again. "Allison should be resting too! She just got attacked yesterday!"</p><p> </p><p>"I told her that!" Vanya yelled back. "But she only agreed to leave the damn coffee shop if I let her do something in the house."</p><p> </p><p>"She was at the coffee shop?" Luther stood up with a look of disbelief. </p><p> </p><p>Eight almost clenched his fists as realization dawned at him, but he held himself back. He couldn't hide the barest twitch in his fingers, though.</p><p> </p><p>Allison waited for him and got attacked because of it... That's... She shouldn't have... Was that his fault?... He...</p><p> </p><p>His heart started racing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Is she okay?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He buried the unwelcome thought 10 feet deep into his brain. So what if she wasn't fine? Eight barely knows her. He didn't care about what happens to her.</p><p> </p><p>"She was," Vanya confirmed and Luther walked to the direction that was probably towards the kitchen. She shook her head before gazing at Eight with concerned eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Five?" She called and grasped his hand. Eight wants to pull away or maybe slap her hand away. Why is this family so fucking tactile?!</p><p> </p><p>He didn't answer her call but he mentally pleaded for her to let his hand go. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't used to this kind of contact. He knows the hit of a fist, a foot, an elbow, a knee and sometimes more. The only kind gesture that he had ever received from his family were from Six, but the woman's touch had never felt this bad. It had never felt this warm. It was contact made out of pity, guilt and/or deceit. </p><p> </p><p>Eight thinks that he deserved to hate touch. It was uncomfortable and he felt like it made him feel vulnerable. Being close to someone means that they have a closer chance of landing a hit on you or grappling you into a restraining hold. It was a legitimate threat to his safety especially when it came from someone that he couldn't trust.</p><p> </p><p>And he had no one to trust so every touch was an automatic capital NO.</p><p> </p><p>At least, that's what he thought before he met the Umbrella Academy, before he got wrangled into a hug by Luther and he had no choice but to stay.</p><p> </p><p>They were still a NO but the longer their touch lingers, NO slowly turns to a MAYBE and then a sudden, helpless YES.</p><p> </p><p>Just like what's happening now. But the touch didn’t loiter (was he disappointed or relieved? he didn’t know) because Vanya was too busy looking at Eight, her face falling the longer she stares at him.</p><p> </p><p>"He's <em>hurt</em>, Diego." She announced all of a sudden, rain suddenly pouring from outside even though the sky was clear moments ago. Without looking at her, Eight could tell that she was crying just from the sounds that she was making.</p><p> </p><p>She took a shuddering and calming breath before speaking again. "You know... I thought, a part of me thought that maybe Five would be better off without us. Maybe he was better off with people who would actually listen to what he has to say and who wouldn't be distracted from the task at hand. I mean, Dad liked him and he looked fine the last time we met him so maybe, maybe he'd be happier there."</p><p> </p><p>Eight could feel her moving, she must be looking at Diego if Diego's sudden focus to Eight's left was any indication. </p><p> </p><p>"A part of me wasn't really that keen in doing what Herb had said and I admit that I haven't done anything to reclaim him because a small, quiet voice inside of me whispers that maybe, we should just leave him alone. He'd probably grow closer to the Sparrows with time, he would have someone better than me who created his hell, TWICE."</p><p> </p><p>"I was <strong>wrong</strong>." She spoke her last words with so much wrath that it makes Reginald anger look like a child's tantrum.</p><p> </p><p>"They broke him, Diego." She grits out and thunder rumbles outside. "They broke him, and <em>we</em> let that happen."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Diego crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "I know, believe me, I know. Luther did too. It was why we decided to get him outta there ASAP. Fuck everything else, forget subtlety, forget doing it slowly. Allison's right. We can't let him stay there with THAT bastard for a second longer."</p><p> </p><p>"We would never let him go again, sis. I promise."</p><p> </p><p>Vanya squeezed Eight's hand tighter before finally letting go. "I'll get the first aid kit, you three need a good check-up."</p><p> </p><p>Diego looked like was going to protest but he nodded tersely instead. "I'll keep watch."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight never felt guilty of deceiving people but maybe he was starting to feel it. That conversation was... was illuminating and he felt like he was watching something private, something that he wasn't meant to hear which was ridiculous because they were saying it right in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>Their words felt too genuine, too warm, too kind, too concerned with his well-being, and just... just too much.</p><p> </p><p>He didn't know that it was possible for people to be this good. His family was filled with horrible and manipulative liars, and Eight was MORE horrible and manipulative. People just instinctively want to take advantage of each other to get what they want. This was his norm.</p><p> </p><p>But maybe it wasn't The Norm?</p><p> </p><p>Is this... Is this what's family is like? He could vaguely remember himself wanting this once upon a time before he completely gave up on it. </p><p> </p><p><strong><em>No</em></strong>. </p><p> </p><p>No. It has to be a lie somehow. They were just better at lying than the Sparrows and were taking advantage of Eight's inexperience with affectionate gestures to pry his heart open. Eight knew that because that's exactly the kind of messed up thing HE pulls.</p><p> </p><p>The fact that they said it right in front of him was suspicious too. And they said something about some Herb telling them what to do. They probably had some kind of agenda in mind like Reginald, or maybe they were doing it on a whim like him? Nevertheless, he shouldn't let his guard down.</p><p> </p><p>Eight <em>will</em> reveal their true colors but in the meantime, he needed to grow an immunity against them because they were literally the source of emotions and sentiments that were powerful enough to incapacitate him and with enough efficacy to actually render him helpless on multiple occasions. It was a source of weakness that needs to be sealed down.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He would make them regret trying to deceive him. Every single one of them, especially Reginald.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Luther did not return from the kitchen, but Allison came rushing towards Eight like a bullet train. Why do they always rush at him like that?</p><p> </p><p>(He refused to acknowledge the breath of relief that escaped his mouth at the sight of her, alive.)</p><p> </p><p>She was not unharmed though. Bandages peeked around her blouse, a stark white against the black material, she was injured in her left arm and probably her foot with the way she was slightly limping.</p><p> </p><p>Despite readying himself for it, the hug still managed to stiffen his muscles better than getting electrocuted could. He knew that he needed to get used to this but wasn’t this a bit too much? He was sure that he had filled his quota for hugs for the whole damn day but it didn’t seem like they’re planning on stopping. Can’t they slowly introduce the contact to him?</p><p> </p><p>It was like being forced to drink a whole bottle of vodka rather than a single shot (not that he’d ever remember drinking alcohol but he was somehow sure that the analogy works). It leaves him dizzy and lightheaded and he’ll probably vomit on the floor soon. <em>Definitely</em> not good.</p><p> </p><p>Eight tried to ignore the arms around him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Think about gross stuff like boogers or vomit or Reginald dancing with an alien.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>It probably worked (?) but Allison lets him go before he could properly diagnose himself. She was frowning at him, the same way three of the Umbrellas had looked at him before. She shuffled and planted herself directly at Eight’s eyesight. After making herself comfortable in front of him, she snapped a finger but Eight didn’t blink.</p><p> </p><p>Wordlessly, she looked at Diego and Diego recounted the same thing that he had said to Vanya albeit in a more monotonous tone since he was getting tired of repeating himself. However, he looked serious for his next statement.</p><p> </p><p>“Vanya’s pretty broken up about it. It probably reminded her of what Dad did to her while she was a kid.”</p><p> </p><p>That was something new. Who’s this Dad?</p><p> </p><p>And Vanya… Vanya experienced the same thing?</p><p> </p><p>Eight was fortunate enough to have managed to find a loophole, but he somehow doubts that Vanya did.</p><p> </p><p>Allison opened her mouth, but her voice came out scratchy and she couldn’t resist coughing out in pain.</p><p> </p><p>Eight couldn’t believe what he was seeing.</p><p> </p><p>They’re all fucking injured in one way or another. How did they delude themselves into thinking that hiding Eight with them was a good idea?</p><p> </p><p>If he snitched on them, this would all be over. Haven’t they considered that? They shouldn’t have brought danger with them when they have so much to lose, when they have each other to lose!</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fucking braindead idiots.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>See? This is one of the reason why emotions are such a hassle. They meddle with your rational thought process and compromise your survivability, Eight couldn’t think of one good thing that this could offer.</p><p> </p><p>But <em>fuck</em> did it feel so genuine. Was he mistaken? Maybe this wasn’t a lie?</p><p> </p><p>But he sacrificed his well-being for the sake of the long con, too. This shouldn’t have to feel like a big deal.</p><p> </p><p>Allison stayed quiet, her eyes drifting upstairs as if she’s mentally sending comforting words to Vanya. She sighed despondently before pulling out the same pad of paper she was using on that coffee shop. She was writing something and showing it to Diego but Eight was already sufficiently distracted to hear what he has to say.</p><p> </p><p>Was… was it still written there? That single sentence that ruined him completely… was the paper still intact?</p><p> </p><p>He… he wanted it… he wants to steal it away and bury it underground, somewhere where he wouldn’t be reminded of its existence. It was a lie, all pleasant and perfect and <em>hurtful. </em>He wanted to burn it and dance on its ashes.</p><p> </p><p>(He wants to pocket it and keep it forever.)</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Fuck.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>He was steadily solidifying the thought that emotions are a formidable opponent. Could he stop swaying sides for one second? Somehow, he couldn’t believe that he wanted this before.</p><p> </p><p>He resolves himself to do one thing and then the tiniest things manage to punch him in the gut… like… like an actual Achilles heel.</p><p>
  
</p><p>The admission had him faltering.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Great. Fucking great. You put a name on it, now it will be harder not to get attached. Dammit.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Thankfully, before he could bury himself deeper into his own grave, Klaus came in singing Wrecking Ball as he slides down on the handrail. He landed on his butt with a loud thump.</p><p> </p><p>Now he’s trying not to laugh. Can’t this day get anymore exhausting?</p><p> </p><p>Diego groans but immediately approached Klaus so that the man-child could stand. The knife wielder proceeds to scold Klaus, claiming that his foot was still wrapped in a cast and he really should not be doing stunts like that on such a condition.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You did that.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>I did, now shut up!</p><p> </p><p>“I heard what happened from Vanya,” Klaus said, voice growing solemn as he rubs his aching rump. “I have to say that I don’t know what to say or <em>do</em> for that matter.”</p><p> </p><p>Allison wrote: ‘We’ll figure it out.’</p><p>
  
</p><p>Their brief moment was ruined when smoke started billowing from the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>Alarmed, Klaus hid from behind Diego as if the man could protect him from inhaling smoke. “Wait, who’s cooking?”</p><p> </p><p>Allison and Diego exchanged looks and she suddenly ran towards the kitchen, limping but still fast.</p><p> </p><p>“Luther, what the hell man! Don’t waste our food!” Diego yelled as he tried to pry Klaus off him.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya rushed down, waving a hand in front of her face to fan the smoke away. Her other hand was clasping the handle of a first-aid kit and a small fond smile could be seen blooming on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Eight looked at the first-aid kit and he was blindsided by the unadulterated <em>fear</em> that crawled in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>No no no no no <em>no</em>. <strong>Hell no.</strong></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How could he forget that?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Okay, he may have underestimated this family’s propensity for physical contact. This just screams <em>bad </em>and he suddenly found himself severely regretting letting Reginald rough him up like he did.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?” Diego asked Vanya who smiled at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine, Diego. Klaus helped. A lot, actually.”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus nodded sagely. “ME did.”</p><p> </p><p>Diego roughly messed Klaus hair who pouted and pretended to be annoyed but was obviously preening at the touch. The scarred man pointed at Eight, “Him first.”</p><p> </p><p>Eight was sure that every footstep from Vanya felt like an axe swinging at his head. He could not stop the full body flinch that wrecked his body when the woman was finally within touching distance.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Vanya did not miss the movement and her face softened even more. It reminded her too much of Their Five and a part of her was relieved that he wasn’t completely wiped away from Eight even if the boy was obviously uncomfortable. She resisted the urge to croon at him, knowing full well that Five had hated being babied and it was possible that Eight shared the same characteristic.</p><p> </p><p>She settled on a simple reassurance. “I’ll make it quick.”</p><p> </p><p>She took his right hand, nibbling her lip for a bit as she stared at a missing nail. She could feel Diego and Klaus hovering from somewhere nearby and their presence were the only thing stopping her from exploding with rage.</p><p> </p><p>After that, she removed his jacket and the building creaked together with Klaus’ horrified gasp. Vanya vainly gasped for breath, struggling to contain the grief that engulfed her.</p><p> </p><p>Diego whispered from above, “Shit, it was way worse than I think.”</p><p> </p><p>Numerous old-looking scars as well as fresh cuts adorned Eight’s limbs. Furthermore, several bruises of various colors, some shaped like handprints, completed the grotesque painting on his brother’s very thin arms.</p><p> </p><p>“They had a healer, <strong>right</strong>?” Klaus grits, his voice shaking with outrage and disgust. She could hear Diego pacing (stomping, actually) from behind her, muttering angry curses and torturing the poor floorboard.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya was almost envious of them. She could not let her anger out without blowing the whole roof and revealing their location for the world to see. She settled on cleaning the cuts which fortunately didn’t need stitching. Inhale for 4, hold for 7, exhale for 8.</p><p> </p><p>She could hear her heart pounding loudly on her chest, in fact she could hear 4 sets of heartbeat, one of which was actually louder than hers.</p><p> </p><p>Wait… 4?</p><p> </p><p>She looked at the owner of the loudest heartbeat and Eight stared right back, his previously blank eyes were now bright with distress.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Vanya whispered and Eight could barely hear her from the rush of panic in his head. “Hey, you’re fine. You’re safe now.”</p><p> </p><p>He forcefully tries to calm himself, unwittingly following Vanya’s breathing technique. It took him probably a full 3 minutes, and Vanya only continued her ministrations after she was sure that he was not going to panic attack his way out of a first-aid treatment.</p><p> </p><p>She continued cleaning his wounds while taking great care not to hit his bruises as she works her way up in his arms.</p><p> </p><p><em>Stop</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He could feel something constricting his heart and he probably stopped breathing on cut #7.</p><p> </p><p>He was already on the MAYBE zone and he hates it. He hates it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stop.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Something cold touches his cheek and he uncontrollably peered at Klaus who was holding an ice packet on the bruise on his face.</p><p> </p><p>There’s two of them now!</p><p> </p><p>And when the hell did he get that? Was he blacking out?</p><p> </p><p>Vanya slowly placed her hand on his trembling fingers. She was warm like good coffee on a cold day, and kind, and gentle, and <em>Vanya.</em></p><p> </p><p>He did not know what happened between this and before this. All he knows was that he was suddenly incapable of thinking straight from the panic. He had severely underestimated how much they could affect him especially when they were being deliberately caring.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They weren't even trying before, idiot! They were too busy trying to earn your trust but now that you're not resisting, you may as well have begged them to stab you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He can’t let this last because he had already hit his limit and anymore would be fatal. If he soaks this in, he will get addicted and he would never escape. He won’t be able to live with himself without them and he <em>cannot </em>let that happen.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t even hiding his obvious anguish and so it wasn’t surprising when Klaus pulled the ice packet away.</p><p> </p><p>An affectionate “Fivey?” was all it took for him to shiver his way out of their protective cocoon.</p><p> </p><p>He just wants to get away from them.</p><p> </p><p>And he did.</p><p> </p><p>He teleported to the corner of the room where he could be out of reach from them.</p><p> </p><p>“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, STOP TOUCHING ME!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(There were no words to describe the sickening realization that he instinctively refused to leave the house when he jumped.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Broken Bottles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The line between selflessness and selfishness wasn't as obvious as you think.</p><p>Or </p><p>Five and Eight were still the same person, if you know where to look.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I was in this weird slump where I couldn't write for shit. Strangely, I find myself still not satisfied with this chapter despite frequent changes so I may edit it again. It did feel unstable though, which was what I am aiming for.</p><p>Anyway, the events in this chapter happened way before Solidarity and Solitude in case you get confused.</p><p>I still hope that you like it and thank you for reading! Have a good day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Allison felt like they were slowly and steadily breaking apart in the most irritating way possible. Not only have they messed up so bad that they have managed to somehow destroy their entire existence, but they were also homeless, penniless, and probably hopeless.</p><p> </p><p>She lost her daughter, her husband, her friends, EVERYTHING! She truly felt like she deserved a drink or two just to muffle out the exhaustion and grief. To be fair, she was not the only one who shared this sentiment, almost everyone in the family felt the same.</p><p> </p><p>They have sacrificed everything that they have built on the 60s just so that they could go home, only to find out that everything that they have thrown in the fire for the warmth of home were uselessly burnt to ashes.</p><p> </p><p>She missed Claire. She wished that she just chose to rush to her the moment she learned about the apocalypse. She would not have her throat slit, nor did she have to lose another husband. She could have held Claire as the world ended around her, one last time.</p><p> </p><p>She was ready to give up anything if she could have another second with her daughter.</p><p> </p><p>She was understandably upset, angry and very close to crying her eyes out. The only thing that was holding her together was the small hope that they could still fix this but there was also a part of her that was painfully aware that they may have done something irreparable.</p><p> </p><p>It took so much control not to blame Five for their current predicament. The logical part of herself knew that blaming only him wasn't fair, they all screwed up in one way or another, but she was looking for someone to blame and Five made it so easy to get angry at him.</p><p> </p><p>So here she was, getting drunk out of her mind with Klaus. They were outside the abandoned building that they have found, sitting on the ground and leaning on the wall. This was hideout #2, they have left the first after Five suddenly decided that they needed to leave with utmost haste, not even letting them pack the few things that they have managed to scrounge for themselves.</p><p> </p><p>She felt like they deserved better and not just a declaration that they were in danger and that he had no time to explain. They had finally found someplace to rest after days of hide-and-seek with the Sparrows, which was kinda the only good thing that had happened to them since arriving in 2019. It was their much-desired brief respite and could Five not see why they were uncertain about leaving?</p><p> </p><p>It was not as if they were unwilling to cooperate, but would it be so bad to at least have an idea about what is happening?</p><p> </p><p>They weren't mindless puppet. They refused to act like one after everything Reginald had put them through, why can't Five see that?</p><p> </p><p>But they left anyway because Five had looked so desperate, screaming and begging, fierce but also shaking.</p><p> </p><p>"Penny for your thoughts?" Klaus' voice was quiet, and Allison did not need to look at her brother to know that he was looking at the sky with the same thousand-yard gaze he had since they started drinking.</p><p> </p><p>The abandoned building was enclosed on all sides by concrete walls and a metal fence. Aside from the random cars that were passing through, the place was completely quiet and the midnight sky was the only thing worth looking at, so Allison looked up as well.</p><p> </p><p>"Five." was her simple answer.</p><p> </p><p>It was easier to think about the family that she had than the family that she lost.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus hummed. "He still hadn't stopped writing on that wall?"</p><p> </p><p>"Probably." She took another swig, successfully draining the bottle of all its contents.</p><p> </p><p>She heard the clink of a bottle being placed on the floor and she finally let her eyes rest on her brother who was staring at the bottle like it personally offended him.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll return your penny for your thoughts," she softly whispered, suddenly unwilling to destroy the serenity of their situation.</p><p> </p><p>"Ben."</p><p> </p><p>She also placed her drink down.</p><p> </p><p>Another person that she had lost.</p><p> </p><p>"I just... Damn," Klaus said while running his hand on his hair. "I keep imagining him with this disappointed look in his face and the drink's suddenly stale. He ruined alcohol for me, that little shit."</p><p> </p><p>Despite his words, he took another gulp. "If he had any complaints, he better come out of wherever he was and talk my ear off. Stale alcohol never stopped me!"</p><p> </p><p>Allison lets out a weak chuckle before lighting up a cigarette.</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't know you smoke," Klaus commented while peering at her from the corner of his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, well..." She responded. "...can't help it."</p><p> </p><p>"So about Fivey..."</p><p> </p><p>Allison exhaled skywards.</p><p> </p><p>"What's his secret?"</p><p> </p><p>She blinked at the inquiry, allowing herself to focus on the question rather than their situation.</p><p> </p><p>"How would I know?" She honestly replied. "He rarely talks to us and when he does, he only talks about the things he one-sidedly decided that we needed to know."</p><p> </p><p>"No...no, I mean, yeah suuure but that's not what I'm talking about. I meant..." Klaus gestured at the two of them. "This. Look at us, we're barely functioning, meanwhile he's so..."</p><p> </p><p>He snapped his fingers as he grappled for the right word and Allison tried to help him.</p><p>"Energetic? Clear-headed? Determined?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, I mean it doesn't make any sense. You'd think he'd be exhausted by now."</p><p> </p><p>"He's incomprehensible," she shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>He nabbed a stick from her, his face uncharacteristically solemn. <em>"Is he?</em> Or maybe we just don't know him. We probably know ... Ben, the <em>dead</em> brother, better than we know Five. That's kinda sad.” He contemplated for a second before correcting himself. “For you guys anyway since I could see Ben."</p><p> </p><p>She tapped her cigarette, ruminating in what Klaus was saying.</p><p> </p><p>It was probably why their reunion had never been anything particularly worth noting. They barely knew Five, even before the time travel. He wore a mask at such a young age that his own family doesn't even recognize his real face anymore. Then, he comes back, a changed person, but did he really even change?</p><p> </p><p>She was not claiming to know all her brothers and sisters because even now, she was still in the middle of learning about them. But in terms of who she knew the least, then Five would take the top spot without a doubt.</p><p> </p><p>After further deliberation, she shared a hypothesis. “Maybe he’s fine because he had nothing to lose. In fact, on both cases, his arrival was too recent to even have one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Consider me jelly,” Klaus chuckled bitterly.</p><p> </p><p>She wondered if having nothing to lose was a good thing. It sounded like a lonely and meaningless life.</p><p> </p><p>They probably would have continued the conversation if not for the sound of the door opening. <em>Speak of the devil and the devil shall come</em>, she mused as she watched Five walk through the door. His eyes expertly scanned the outside before promptly stopping at their slumped forms.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Perhaps it was thanks to their previous conversation, but she found herself observing her brother with something more than drunk contemplativeness. It was about time that they try and connect with their estranged family anyway.</p><p> </p><p><em>Five rarely ever uses the doors, </em>that was her first hint.</p><p> </p><p>He approached them with a raised eyebrow, taking note of the several bottles of alcohol and the cigarette stick on both of their hands. It was a subtle change, but she saw him make a pained expression before completely wiping it out of his face. He leaned on the wall that was directly in front of them, both of his fists and jaw were clenched tightly.</p><p> </p><p>“How long were you here?”</p><p> </p><p>Klaus raised his bottle to the night sky. “Long enough!”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you … going to drink all of that?” If Allison didn’t know any better, she would think that Five almost sounded meek. Perhaps the exhaustion was finally catching up to him too?</p><p> </p><p>“Vanya and Luther promised to join us after they’re done with errands, we can’t drink all of this.” She answered, feeling vaguely like something was horribly wrong or like something was about to go wrong.</p><p> </p><p>If nothing else, Allison was proud of her ability to sense people’s bullshit from a mile away and she’s slowly growing more lucid by the second. She knew better than to ignore her own instincts.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Something’s definitely wrong.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She would have asked, but Diego ruined her train of thought with his arrival. “Don’t run from me, you little shit!”</p><p> </p><p>Five gave Diego a warning glance, and Diego responded to his hostility with a roll of his eyes. “We’re not done yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, <em>we are</em>,” Five gritted out but there was also something pleading in his eyes that made Diego falter.</p><p> </p><p>Allison and Klaus exchanged looks, both were aware that they were missing a good chunk of what’s actually happening.</p><p> </p><p>“Later then," Diego grumbled before stomping away to watch their surroundings. He didn't go very far, probably so that he could hear if something happened to them.</p><p> </p><p><em>Protective bugger</em>, Allison fondly thinks to herself before inhaling tobacco. Obviously, whatever they were talking about wasn't for them to hear which is why she didn't even bother to ask Five about it.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus wasn't her. "What were you talking about?"</p><p> </p><p>Five frowned before crossing his arms, except for when Diego approached them he had yet to stop staring at them. "Nothing."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh come on! Talk to us, buddy... <em>Oh!"</em> Klaus reached for one unopened bottle and shoved it to Five. "Here, loosen up."</p><p> </p><p>As a bona-fide mother, she could not let that slide. "Klaus! He's a minor!"</p><p> </p><p>"Senior~" He sang while Five slowly closed his hand on the drink.</p><p> </p><p>"A senior in the body of a <em>minor!</em> Stop that!" She admonished and gave Five her own version of a warning glance.</p><p> </p><p>He didn't even spare her a peek, eyes too busy reading the label on the drink. </p><p> </p><p>She opened her mouth to further admonish Klaus, but she shut it close with an audible clack when she saw the man frowning worriedly at Five.</p><p> </p><p>"Uhhh... You okay, buddy?"</p><p> </p><p>Five did not answer the question nor did he made a single indication that he even heard Klaus' voice. He clenched his jaw and rocked on the balls of his feet before relaxing once again. He dropped his raised arms and let the bottle hit his knee gently.</p><p> </p><p>The liquid sloshed from the movement and Klaus raised an eyebrow at Five.</p><p> </p><p>"You're supposed to drink that, not play with it."</p><p> </p><p>Allison could see that Klaus instantly regretted opening his mouth when Five's undivided attention focused on him. She could feel the tension rising in the air even through Five's faux relaxed posture.</p><p> </p><p>And the boy was still hitting his knee with the glass. </p><p> </p><p>Uncomfortable with the gaze, Klaus shuffled himself so that he was closer to Allison.</p><p> </p><p>"Five," she warned and the boy stopped his staring. He sighed and raised himself on the balls of his feet, yet again. He rocked for a while before stopping abruptly, looking to his right as if something was there.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing was there.</p><p> </p><p>Allison nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to think of what to say to their obviously anxious brother.</p><p> </p><p>"Since when... did Luther start drinking?" Five asked, gaze still trained on a blank spot to his right.</p><p> </p><p>"He realized that Dad was an asshole during the original 2019 and you have to be drunk to deal with that. It took him long enough but at least he did, right?" Klaus answered, gazing at Five with something resembling suspicion and concern.</p><p> </p><p>Five hummed while rocking on his feet again, eerily unstable and calm.</p><p> </p><p>Nervously, she tried to take a drag at her cigarette stick but stopped when something cracked, metaphorically and literally.</p><p> </p><p>Allison was rarely ever wrong, she knew that something was about to go down but she still jumped to her feet, taken completely by surprise when Five slammed the bottle to the wall adjacent to himself. The loud shattering sound effectively transformed the serene night to something more agitated. She felt the blood rushing to her head and she cursed how tipsy she was.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey what the fuck?!" Klaus scrambled to his feet as well.</p><p> </p><p>"What's wrong with you?" She shakily yelled while carefully moving herself away from the shards.</p><p> </p><p>Five exhaled a shuddering breath and when he looked at them, she could not mistake the manic look in his eyes for anything less. He was clenching his fists again as if he wanted to punch something.</p><p> </p><p>However, despite his aggressive posture, he spoke in a frightening monotone. "Where did you get all of this?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Why did you want to know?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Even when they don't know the exact problem, Klaus and Allison came to the same conclusion at exactly the same time.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This is bad.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Five slowly straightened himself, his eyes languidly moved downwards, silently contemplating.</p><p> </p><p>Allison can feel her heart pounding in her chest. Alarm bells were ringing in her mind. Suddenly and almost out of nowhere, she was reminded that an assassin was right in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>"The convenience store down the street," Five whispered to himself and the location that he spouted was enough to send goosebumps crawling on her spine.</p><p> </p><p>"What's wrong, bud?" Klaus repeated himself, slowly approaching Five but the boy simply ignored him. In fact, he moved with such purpose that Allison knew then and there that Five had murder in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What the fuck is happening? What the fuck is happening?! Was she hallucinating? </em>
</p><p>Everything was happening so fast that it felt as if the world instantly turned upside-down. She was seriously considering tackling the boy to the ground, but Diego took the initiative. He slung his arms on Five's armpits and pulled the boy up before he could leave the premises.</p><p> </p><p>Diego probably heard the sound of glass breaking and made the executive decision that Five needed to be stopped the exact second that he was close enough. Honestly, a single glance at their littlest brother was enough to know that something was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Five screamed and struggled, and the sound punctured Allison straight in the chest. If she couldn't see his pale face, she would've thought that he was crying.</p><p> </p><p>"Five, for fuck's sake, would you fucking stop?!" Diego grunted, tightening his hold at Five.</p><p> </p><p>Five made a movement as if he were planning on stomping on Diego's foot, but he stopped midair and audibly gritted his teeth before carefully letting his foot down.</p><p> </p><p>"Why are you stopping me?! AGAIN?!" Five angrily yelled back but he made no further move to harm Diego. "Why..." His voice broke, transforming from angry screaming to bitter muttering in a matter of seconds. "Why am I even letting you stop me?"</p><p> </p><p>His voice trembled with emotion, but his eyes were still manic with anger and inexplicable pain.</p><p> </p><p><em>Not unexplainable, you just don't know him, </em>a voice whispered inside of her.</p><p> </p><p>Confusion replaced the fear that the three of them had felt. She scrambled her mind, struggling to understand what could have caused such an intense reaction from their brother.</p><p> </p><p>Was it Klaus?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His conversation with Diego?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>…It could have played a role, but it wasn't the one that landed the critical blow...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She glanced at the glinting pieces of glass nearby.</p><p> </p><p>"Smoking and drinking, was that it?" Allison asked, feeling a bit incredulous at her own assumption. Why would Five care if they do such a thing? He never made a fuss about it.</p><p> </p><p>Her words shockingly brought an unintended effect, Five slumped from Diego’s hold and it became increasingly apparent that Allison managed to hit bullseye. Unfortunately, she could not find pleasure in the small victory, the sight of their prideful brother in such a state of defeat was too much of an unwelcome sight.</p><p> </p><p>Diego slowly lets him go and Five crumpled on his knees to the ground, boneless and shaking once again.</p><p> </p><p>"H-hypocrite! I distinctly remember you puking your guts out, wasted as fuck!" Diego yelled accusingly. She knew that in Diego's own way, this was him being concerned but she still had to restrain the urge to punch him for being insensitive.</p><p> </p><p>"I know that! Fuck!" Five growled, mussing his hair aggressively, but it wasn’t rough enough to disguise how his fingers continued to violently tremble. "I fucking know that! I was- I just- I don't- I wasn't thinking, okay? <em>I'm</em> <em>sorry</em>."</p><p> </p><p>He suddenly stood up, and the speed with which he recovered his dignity left them reeling. There was absolutely no sign of any murderous intent in his façade. It felt as if he lopped off his own head and another grew to take its place. It was <em>unnerving</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry. I won't do this again," he spoke in a clear and concise manner that left no room for arguments. She almost found herself nodding along but she stilled the movement.</p><p> </p><p>"No, no, no, no, <em>no</em>. You are <em>NOT</em> brushing this off!" She demanded while blocking Five's way. She was aware that the action was useless, nothing could stop Five if he wanted to leave which was why she blinked in surprise when Five merely glared half-heartedly at her, his face painted with exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, she felt silly for thinking that Five wasn't affected with all that's happening.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Something's definitely wrong. She was missing something.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>And she would get to the bottom of it.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm getting tired of you hiding everything from us. If we’re that much of a burden to you that you couldn’t even share anything to us, then why are you even here?"</p><p> </p><p><em>"Allie!"</em> Klaus hissed but Allison ignored him. She does not truly mean what she was saying, but Five was frustrating her so much that she was willing to push his buttons.</p><p> </p><p>If he gets angry enough, perhaps he would try to defend himself. Perhaps Allison could finally get a glimpse of their true brother behind the mask.</p><p> </p><p>"Can't even bear to be by our side for one minute before throwing a tantrum?"</p><p> </p><p>Five flinched as if Allison had physically hit him. Without remorse, she pushed him again. "Why did you do it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Allison, I don't want to talk about it."</p><p> </p><p>"You don't want to talk about anything," she calmly accused. She could feel the others inching away from the ensuing argument. "We were grieving," she enunciated. "We were hurt, and we don't know what else to do. And then you came along and make us feel worse and you won't even give us a single reason why."</p><p> </p><p>He took a step backwards, hugging his arms as if he's physically pulling himself together. "I <em>am</em> sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"If you really are, then explain yourself," she gritted out, patience thinning and heart pounding.</p><p> </p><p>Five finally met her eyes but he hurriedly looked away. Nevertheless, it was enough. It was enough for Allison to see the grief that swam in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't... I don't know. I just ... blacked out." He explained as he shuffled his feet. She could feel his need to escape just from that movement. "I was looking at you and then you were drinking and smoking and then I thought... You were... It suddenly came to me…"</p><p> </p><p>The unhinged look in his face was rapidly returning. </p><p> </p><p>"…how much I <em>abhor</em> being in this young body." He continued in a self-depreciating tone. They looked at each other at the non-sequitur.</p><p> </p><p>"What are you-?" Before Klaus could even finish his question, Five dropped his hands, eyes blazing with fiery despair.</p><p> </p><p>"Don’t you get it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em>younger</em> than you!” He thundered. “No matter what I do, I’m going to have to bury you, <em>again.</em>” His clenched fists started drawing blood. “As if dying last wasn’t <em>enough</em>, you had the <em>nerve</em> to accelerate your deaths right in front of me.”</p><p> </p><p>Tears finally flowed in his cheeks and he made a wounded and irritated scream. He roughly pressed his palms to his eyes to block the water from escaping even more. “I look at you…” He forcefully choked the words out as if it was strangling him. “I look at you doing that and I realize that I would feel the same thing if you slit your wrists in front of me.”</p><p> </p><p>She would have felt guilty if she wasn’t too busy staring disbelievingly at the sight in front of her. Oh hell, she did not intend to make him cry.<em> At all</em>. She didn’t even think that he’s capable of it.</p><p> </p><p><em>"Why?"</em> That single word was filled with so much anguish and Allison was drowned by her desire to try and comfort her brother. She got what she wanted, she’s looking at the real Five and there was nothing but a face full of debilitating despair.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm doing everything that I could to keep you alive so why are you wasting this?"</p><p> </p><p>"Five we're-"</p><p> </p><p>"I just got you back!" His body shook and he finally stopped fruitlessly blocking the tears away. "I just got you back," he repeated, voice small, tired and old.</p><p> </p><p>The realization hit her like a freight train. It was basically a confession of love, not flowery or comforting, but hopeless and marred with pain.</p><p> </p><p>She felt like something had lodged on her throat.</p><p> </p><p>"...and I'm already <em>sick</em> of watching you get yourself killed over and over again."</p><p> </p><p>Silence reigned after that admission and Five sighed. Air and all traces of emotion escaped from him. He wiped the tear tracks from his eyes and shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>There goes another decapitated head.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry for this."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Don't be.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I just need time to come to terms with myself, I’m old enough to know that this is inescapable. I know that you're having a hard time, and if this truly helps you then don't let me stop you, okay? I was being... illogical and slightly emotional from lack of sleep."</p><p> </p><p>He was eerily calm, words flowed out of his mouth as if he wasn't breaking down and stumbling with his phrases just a moment ago.</p><p> </p><p>And Allison wondered, how many times had he broken down without them seeing any of it? If he could hide himself so well and so fast, then who was to say that she had seen all of the chinks in Five's armor?</p><p> </p><p>It was a terrifying thing, they could only know of Five's emotion when he's actively sharing it or when he's already broken so far that he could not hide anything. There was no in between.</p><p> </p><p>She shivered in fear at the chance that none of them were here to see this breakdown. They would have spent their days thinking that nothing was wrong and they would be too late by the time they figure things out.</p><p> </p><p>Their brother was human too, tougher than anyone else she had ever known but still painfully <em>human.</em> They were fools not to recognize that. </p><p> </p><p>"Like hell!" Diego yelled but Five just rolled his eyes at him. Allison could almost envision the wall building between them and their brother.</p><p> </p><p>Panic strikes at her chest.</p><p> </p><p>She was still missing something. Something important, something that needed to be said!</p><p> </p><p><em>Something happened, </em>she was getting more and more sure by the second. She doubts that her words were what sent him bursting into tears. This was building-up for a while now and they were just the unwitting fools that poked too far.</p><p> </p><p>She tried to place her hand on his shoulder but Five slapped her hand away. She winced but was more hurt by the blatant rejection than the act itself.</p><p> </p><p>When he spoke, his tone was cold and hard like steel, but also paradoxically genuine and kind. "I'm sorry but now that we're all physically and emotionally vulnerable, I cannot afford another show of weakness."</p><p> </p><p>He smiled at Allison, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I would be grateful if you refrain from touching me again."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was a horrible thing to learn: His family wasn’t like Delores, they have needs and wants that he could not simply ignore or else they would start relying on self-destructive means. Five needs to be careful with how much pain he could share with them, especially when his family was so obviously in the middle of healing from their recent loss.</p><p> </p><p>When all is said and done, saving them from physical harm would mean nothing if they stopped wanting to live. He would share his pain of losing them because it could persuade them to desire survival, but nothing more. Comfort is a limited resource, especially in this family, and he refuses to take the very thing that could probably save them from their emotional distress. They were better off sparing their time and effort (something that they barely had thanks to the Sparrows) in supporting each other than him.</p><p>
  
</p><p>He would erect a tombstone, deep in his heart, for every death that he couldn’t stop, but he was determined to be the only one to mourn it. It was a given that they will die eventually, but Five is hell-bent in making sure that they live for as long as they could.</p><p> </p><p>It was fine, he was tougher than all of them combined. As long as he was careful with his distance, he can stifle the yearning and the harrowing grief. If it means that they would survive, Five would give himself, give them anything, <em>everything.</em></p><p> </p><p>He will and he did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. An Agreement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A deal with the devil but who’s the devil?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I posted the story and was squealing at the comments but then I noticed that I haven't written a note which was really a big mistake on my part.</p><p>I must never forget all the support that you've given me! Thank you.</p><p>From time to time, I reply to comments because I have something to say but that doesn't mean that the comments I haven't replied to weren't as treasured. Cause really, just the notification that someone had commented or kudo'd my work was like a happiness shot straight to my heart. Heck, even an increase in hits were fun! Love ya all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the Umbrella Academy stared at Eight, with a fair amount of confusion. They exchanged questioning looks with each other and Eight took that opportunity to regain his composure.</p><p> </p><p>He really should stop being surprised whenever he broke character if these people were in such close proximity.</p><p> </p><p>"Wh- You're fine?" Diego scratched his head while his eyebrows scrunched together in a half-angry, half-uncomprehending frown.</p><p> </p><p>Eight settled on rolling his eyes at the man while pulling his jacket back on. His mind is grinding itself to decide his next move, keeping half of his attention to the way the Umbrella's confusion is slowly growing into comprehension.</p><p> </p><p>And with comprehension comes suspicion and fear.</p><p> </p><p>"Y-you were fooling us!" Luther accused, taking a step forward and pushing his siblings back with one arm. Tension travelled through their forms in different ways: Vanya's pupils started turning white, Diego pulled out a knife, Klaus looked around as if expecting enemies to suddenly surround them and Allison moved to a fighting stance.</p><p> </p><p>Eight took his time to calm his breathing and leaned on the wall, uncaring for the obvious alarm that was strangling the room.</p><p> </p><p>It took a few more seconds for the rest of the Umbrellas to realize that no one was coming, at least for the immediate future anyway, before they relaxed for a small fraction. </p><p> </p><p>Allison, who seemed the most interested in getting straight to the point, hurriedly wrote in her paper, 'Why did you come here?'</p><p> </p><p>Eight pursed his lips while rolling the question in his head. Bit by bit, he was slowly coming to a decision on what he wanted to do with this particular group of clowns.</p><p> </p><p>It was another plan that could take a long time to achieve completion, but nonetheless, it was something that he needed to do. These people proved to be too much of a powerful variable (especially for him) to ignore.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm here to negotiate." </p><p> </p><p>His reply made the Umbrellas share another flabbergasted look with each other. He can see some of them physically letting their guard down while others bristled more in suspicion.</p><p> </p><p>He was a bit pleased that some were still sensible enough to sense danger.</p><p> </p><p>Luther unfortunately, was not one of them, because he slowly lowered his arms. "About what?" </p><p> </p><p>Eight shook his head. "Let me see if I understand what you want first." He heaved himself up so that he could sit on a nearby cabinet. "I'm guessing that you want me, or to be more specific, you want to convince me to come with you, am I correct?"</p><p> </p><p>Not seeing where the conversation was going, Luther nodded warily. "I-I guess, yeah."</p><p> </p><p>"You guess?" Eight hissed.</p><p> </p><p>"I mean yeah! Yeah of course!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eight crossed his arms, feeling exhausted despite the fact that he was still standing on the starting line. He had so many complaints for these idiots that he was certain he could write a whole book dedicated on dissing them to hell and back.</p><p> </p><p>"In order to do that, you needed to spend time with me which Allison was trying to do a few days prior to this..." He snapped his fingers while grappling for the right words that would fit their current situation. "...happy little incident."</p><p> </p><p>The Umbrellas were thick faced enough not to get affected with being read so thoroughly well. They probably already figured that their motivation was easy enough for Eight to surmise on his own.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, maybe he was better off not giving them such high praise.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"What are you suggesting here?" Diego demanded impatiently and Klaus not-so-subtly elbowed him in the stomach for his attitude.</p><p> </p><p>Eight swung his feet, hitting the cabinet with his soles repeatedly. "I can stay here if you want."</p><p> </p><p>The moment those words left his mouth, their eyes collectively bugged out, flabbergasted and disbelieving. Eight ignored the reaction and continued his drawl. "Hmmm... for 1 month, I guess, or when the Sparrows capture me again, whichever comes first." He tilted his head at them and lets his hands rest on the surface of the wooden furniture. "What do you think? Want to go on a temporary truce with me?"</p><p> </p><p>They looked really tempted to say yes but Allison, ever the responsible one, interjected before they could mindlessly agree.</p><p> </p><p>'What's in it for you?' She hurriedly wrote, underlining the word you with a firm stroke.</p><p> </p><p>Eight contemplated lying before deciding that he was not really invested in hiding his motivations. "Simply put, I want to get tired of all of you."</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Klaus spluttered, blinking rapidly at Eight as if he grew a second head. "Why the hell are we going to agree to what you're offering after hearing that?"</p><p> </p><p>There were murmurs of agreement and refusal.</p><p> </p><p>"We may have the complete opposite goals in mind, but that just means that you need to emerge victorious in this little competition of ours." Eight countered. "And because I seriously doubt that you would ever have this much of a perfect opportunity again. Besides," He loopily grinned at them. "It was pretty much a high risk, high reward kind of deal for both of us."</p><p> </p><p>Growing cautious from the obviously unhinged conversation partner, Luther retaliated with his own suspicions. "How would we know that you're not just fooling us again, that you haven't sent the Sparrows our location somehow, and is distracting us until the time is right?" </p><p> </p><p>Eight detachedly shrugged, "They don't. As for any proof, I don't have any. You just need to take my word for it."</p><p> </p><p>"That's not really reassuring," Vanya muttered to herself.</p><p> </p><p>"You can discuss amongst yourselves if you want," Eight gestured upstairs. "I'll wait..." He glanced at the grandfather clock in the living room. "...for 30 minutes, yeah?" </p><p> </p><p>Without waiting for an answer, he made a shooing movement at them. </p><p> </p><p>The Umbrella Academy didn't take the stairs, but they did distance themselves from him so that they could aggressively whisper at each other, or in Allison's case, so that she could write furiously at her notebook.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Unsurprisingly, it didn't take them long to come to a decision. Whatever Vanya had said seemed to be the final nail in the coffin. They nodded at each other and then resolutely approached Eight.</p><p> </p><p>Eight raised an eyebrow at them as a silent inquiry despite knowing what their answer was going to be. If they meant every promise that they have uttered to him, then he was quite certain that they were unwilling to send him back to Reginald no matter what. </p><p> </p><p>"We would take you up on your offer," Luther declared.</p><p> </p><p>Before Eight could open his mouth to acknowledge their acceptance, Klaus took a step forward. "On one condition."</p><p> </p><p>If the shocked look on their faces were any indication, that was something Klaus had decided on his own.</p><p> </p><p>Eight did not really think that they were in any position to place a condition but he shrugged anyway, a little bit amused. "Depends on what you have to say, let's hear it."</p><p> </p><p>The wide, absolutely joyful grin that pulled at Klaus' lips almost made him regret saying that.</p><p> </p><p>"You see, I think the balance is tipped to your favor too much. You're the recipient and you're the deciding factor, everything depends on you right now," the Seance sang, twirling his fingers in the air like a conductor would do. </p><p> </p><p>"So for the sake of fairness," he gave a dramatic pause before cackling to himself. "You are not allowed to reject any of our advances."</p><p> </p><p>Eight admits that he had never heard a declaration quite as scary as this one, his body was already pulling away and leaning on the wall to get away from them.</p><p> </p><p>"What do you mean by that?" Diego asked Klaus, eyes travelling to Eight and his injured brother repeatedly, as if doing that would help him comprehend why their littlest brother looked so apprehensive.</p><p> </p><p>"Mea-Ning, we get to hug and cuddle and he's not allowed to pull away."</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the family made an oooh-ing sound, quickly warming up to the idea. Eight grits his teeth, feeling suddenly exposed and tilted.</p><p> </p><p>It was a terrifying preposition, but it will do a good job of evening out the battlefield for all of them. From a logical standpoint, it was a reasonable condition to make, and Eight is incapable of making an argument that claims the opposite.</p><p> </p><p>He could still say no and they won't be able to do anything, but it does significantly makes the game easier for him. As much as he couldn't bear how tactile they were, boredom is a much more irritating enemy.</p><p> </p><p>A game with no challenge did not seem like it's worth playing and would only function as a waste of time.</p><p> </p><p>"Fine," he sighed.</p><p> </p><p>He still holds a chance of earning the invulnerability that he wants, the only difference that it added to the table was the fact that he can't set the pace for himself.</p><p> </p><p><em>It’s not that bad</em>, he tried to convince himself.</p><p> </p><p>The Umbrellas exchanged gleeful and conspiratory looks with each other. The simple act was enough for Eight to doubt himself.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya took no time to pull out the first-aid kit from the floor, she was smiling happily and gesturing that she wants to continue treating him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I thought she forgot about that.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Damn it.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Planting Hatred on Bountiful Land</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nothing was ever fair or easy for the Not-Hargreeves.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for not updating for a while, school was more time consuming than I originally thought and my inspiration to write is severely affected by academic stress.</p><p>But damn, I missed writing. Thank you for all the kudos and comments, I'm still feeling honored to this day :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thankfully, Vanya seemed much more interested in finishing up with her bandage work than trying to make <em>‘advances’</em> as Klaus had eloquently labelled for their tactile tendencies. Eight would not reject an incidental break, horribly aware that he was still reeling from their latest touch.</p><p> </p><p>Making sure that the bandages were sufficiently secured, she nodded to herself while patting Eight as thanks for his silent compliance. Eight was certain that he was being tortured somehow. This was a new way of torture designed specifically to attack his chest and induce a heart attack or break his mind with paranoia, whichever comes first.</p><p> </p><p>To make matters worse, the desire for violence was beginning to rear its unwelcome-at-the-moment head. He pushed it away for the time being because whether he likes it or not, this was too important of a venture to destroy with his propensity for illegal acts. Nevertheless, the desire was there, whispering in the back of his mind and getting louder for every hour he didn’t see blood. It had muted down to a more manageable volume after he had killed Number Two but he seriously doubts that it would last long, especially with how disappointingly quick of a death he had given her.</p><p> </p><p>“Five?” Eight looked up at Vanya and the others who were staring worriedly at him. He scowled, “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“I said, where do you want to sleep?”</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, </em>they were saying something. He reprimanded himself for being distracted.</p><p> </p><p>“Anywhere,” he shrugged, refraining from slinking away from Vanya who was still uncomfortably close to him. He glared at her in hopes that she could read that he wanted her away from his personal space. Just because he can’t physically reject them doesn’t mean that he cannot visually and verbally communicate how much he abhors their presence.</p><p> </p><p>Vanya flinched away.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry Vani, that was Five’s misguided attempt at saying thanks.” Klaus joked in the vain hope that it would bring her comfort.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not,” Eight coldly interrupted while fixing the buttons in his shirt.  The rest of them chose to ignore his remark which was frankly irritating.</p><p> </p><p>“We got three bedrooms, who wants to share with Mr. Anywhere over here?” Diego announced.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What? They’re sleeping together? And now I’m supposed to…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“If you don’t want me to sleep, sure,” he hissed before they could even try to reluctantly volunteer themselves. He knew that he can’t reject them, but they weren’t seriously thinking that he would relax sharing the same room as them, were they?</p><p> </p><p>Getting increasingly irritated, Diego fumed. “You were the one who said anywhere!”</p><p> </p><p>Unrepenting, Eight shrugged. “I changed my mind.”</p><p> </p><p>“I should <em>not</em> have given examples. He’s finding holes!!!” Klaus moaned from the nearby sofa, slumping and dramatically resting the back of his hand to his forehead.</p><p> </p><p>Diego aggressively scratched his head, growling and looking at the ceiling like he was praying for patience to rain down on him.</p><p> </p><p>Eight missed being honestly rude like this, it was actually kinda fun. Don’t get him wrong, he could act for as long as he needs to but as much as he enjoys making fools out of the Sparrows, it does get tiring. If nothing else, he was grateful for the break from Reginald’s paranoid, controlling ass.</p><p> </p><p>Trying to calm Diego’s rapidly incoming outburst, Luther tried to placate both sides. “Where do you want to sleep, Five? You can decide.”</p><p> </p><p>He briefly considered stealing their rooms from them, but he’d rather not have a physical place to call his own. At the moment, he cannot accurately ascertain which factors could be a thorn on his side. He would rather be careful about things that could accidentally and unexpectedly make him weaker to these people.</p><p> </p><p>He cursed the possibility that he gets attached to these too-good-to-be-true idiots.</p><p> </p><p>As an answer to Luther’s inquiry, he laid down on the sofa that he was previously sitting on without a word.</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight,” he simply said. It was more of a dismissal than a pleasantry.</p><p> </p><p>Diego opens his mouth but thought better of it. Without another word, he turned and walked upstairs. He was aware that he was too hot-headed to stay in conversation with Five, especially when the boy was deliberately trying to piss him off. </p><p> </p><p>After a few more seconds of awkward silence, the rest of the family followed, murmuring their own gentler goodnights.</p><p> </p><p>No matter how tempted he was, Eight didn't show them his back but simply closed his eyes, mouth firmly closed. He never returned any of their kind words.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>If he were the Diego from before, then he probably would have already exchanged blows with his brother but right now, he knows that creating a hostile environment would be the furthest thing from their goals.</p><p> </p><p>His self-control wasn't enough to stop him from insulting the boy when he was far enough though.</p><p> </p><p>"He's a fucking asshole," he growled to no one in particular.</p><p> </p><p>"Always has been," Luther answered back good-naturedly. The giant finished ascending the stairs while carrying Klaus like a princess. The rest of their family followed.</p><p> </p><p>Diego didn't face them, but he did chuckle at that. "I guess you're right."</p><p> </p><p><em>Never to Vanya though</em>, went unsaid but he knew that everyone noticed that.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry for losing my cool out there," he finally ground out. He didn't meet their eyes, but he did turn around to face them.</p><p> </p><p>Allison squeezed his shoulders in comfort. She understood where his anger was coming from, after all.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Without much fuss, morning came in the form of sunlight peeking from the curtains and landing on Eight’s face. He rubbed his eyes and kicked off the blanket that somehow managed to find itself on his form. He would have considered where it came from if not for the distracting fact that his head is throbbing in pain.</p><p> </p><p>The morning headaches were becoming more and more of a permanent problem and he gnashed his teeth in silent frustration as he tries to ease the pain by massaging his forehead. He was planning on riding out the pain for a good while but the sound of commotion in the kitchen – the noise making it hurt even more- only tells him that trying to do so will be meaningless.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Somebody ought to remind me to cut off their hands and feet while they sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>A panicked scream reverberated from the kitchen and several reprimanding voices combined themselves into a messy cacophony.</p><p> </p><p>He stood up with a loud sigh, ignoring the pain that brought black spots on his vision from the sudden movement. He approached the kitchen with a scowl on his face which actually helped in disguising his sporadic winces of pain.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning, Fivey!” Klaus cackled as he brought up a spatula with some smoking gunk sticking out of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you trying to kill this early in the morning?” He sneered. Oh, don’t get him wrong, he was inwardly aware of the irony in his own words.</p><p> </p><p>Klaus made an exaggerated affronted noise while Allison just slapped her own head, exhausted and at the end of her own ropes. The kitchen genuinely looked like a warzone, if you replace dust with flour and blood with various colors of sauce. Various kitchen paraphernalia was scattered on every available surface and the place reeked of smoke and burning mea-</p><p> </p><p>Eight gagged, hastily taking a step back. The three siblings, Klaus, Allison, and Luther, exchanged looks with each other. All three of them were covered with ash and <em>bleeding</em> and dyin-</p><p> </p><p>Luther worriedly placed his hands on Eight’s shoulder which actually helped in shaking him out of that weird stupor. The boy lets out a grunt as he feels the ice in his brain receding, and when it finally did, he sent a withering look at the man and the hand that was still on his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re fucking heavy,” he spat unkindly, and at the same time, he scrunched his nose as if he had smelt something unpleasant. The disgusted reaction was enough for Luther to remove his hand as if Eight had slapped it away himself.</p><p> </p><p>“He was trying to help!” Klaus defended, the humor in his eyes making way for rightful defensiveness.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>And who caused it in the first place? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He brushed off the invisible dirt on his shoulder. “So?”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was too early for this, but Eight was in a considerably bad mood to actually care about his own timing.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, the early bird gets the worm.</p><p> </p><p>Luther awkwardly apologized and Eight could feel the anger rippling in both Allison and Klaus. Unlike Diego from last night, they didn’t rise to the bait, but the anger and resentment are definitely there and that was all Eight really wanted out of this conversation.</p><p> </p><p>A sadistic part of himself was cackling out of malicious glee.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps it was a bit unfair, but it was the Umbrellas that didn’t think their decision through. They may have thought that there were only two ways for this game to end: They convince Eight or Eight gets used to them. But there was actually another end, a hidden agenda, that he prefers to achieve out of this.</p><p> </p><p>Whether or not they were lying about harboring affection for him, he refused to care. Whether or not he was capable of ignoring this body’s strange reaction to them won’t matter anymore. Once he gets these people to hate him, it will be <em>them</em> that would willingly fulfill what he wants. He would not need to ignore them or get used to their touches because they would be the ones who would distance themselves away from him.</p><p> </p><p>And Eight knew, better than anyone else, that he was hateful, deserving of it even. And people like the Umbrellas who have so much they care about are the easier targets.</p><p> </p><p>Luther respectfully moved so that he was not in Eight’s personal space, and the boy responded by smiling gratefully at him. Faux as the smile was, it did the trick, and Allison hurriedly blocked Luther from his direct periphery, it was admittedly a pathetic effort due to her small frame but she somehow managed. He could feel the anger emanating from her in powerful waves but her eyes were sharp with comprehension, <em>I know exactly what you’re doing</em>, it seems to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop it, Five.” She silently warned, her voice came out hoarse and scratchy, but it held the same amount of strength as her stance.</p><p> </p><p>He grinned provocatively, an unsaid <em>make me</em> travelling between the two of them.</p><p> </p><p>It was laughably easy to rile people up when they have someone to protect. Perhaps they won’t take offense for being directly attacked, but they would definitely get angry for each other, it was an undeniable weakness that Eight would unabashedly use against them.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are <em>you</em> of all people displeased?” Eight tilted his head at her in a mocking questioning look. “You told me once, that you want to know me, that you’ll want me regardless of who I turn out to be. <em>You </em>don’t get to play the victim here.”</p><p> </p><p>Allison recoiled, taking a step back as if having her own words be used as a weapon to hurt her own kin was a physical blow. It was perhaps, Eight’s first victory against this family, but he did not feel anything but slight disappointment and pain.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I knew it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Something in him cracked in resignation, but he ignored the sensation in favor of dishing out the same amount of pain that their empty words had brought him.</p><p> </p><p>“And stop calling me Five. I have a brother who goes by the same number and he’s not exactly the kind of person I wanted to share a name with.”</p><p> </p><p>“But-”</p><p> </p><p>He cuts off whatever they wanted to say, while his voice did not increase in volume, it still silenced everyone in the room with its sheer amount of animosity. “I will only say this to you once: you could either have Eight or no one, but never Five. I have <em>absolutely</em> no intention of giving him back to you, regardless of whether you are lying or not.”</p><p> </p><p>It was an unsympathetic promise, created for the sole purpose of hurting them in the worst way possible.</p><p> </p><p>Whoever this Five was, he was gone now. The moment Eight decided to block those memories, he had thrown away who he was and in addition, the people that <em>knew </em>his past self.</p><p> </p><p>He was sure that he could glimpse some of the tears that threatened to fall in their hurt faces, but he simply turned his back from them.</p><p> </p><p>He walked away and no one followed.</p><p> </p><p>And if a part of him died with them, then <em>good riddance. </em>It was probably Five anyway.</p>
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